


Scars Deeper Than Love

by misswongs



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Drama & Romance, Eremika - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, First Love, Flashbacks, Fluff, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Trauma, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Violence, War, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 49,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misswongs/pseuds/misswongs
Summary: After a tragedy that changed their lives forever, Mikasa is sold to a geisha house at the age of thirteen—being separated from the kid she spent her whole life with, Eren Jaeger, only to be reunited ten years later, testing the strength of their love and reopening past wounds.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 107
Kudos: 242





	1. Silencia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this fic back in 2015/2016, but after stepping away from the fandom i dropped it, now since i resumed the anime/manga and the ship feels are all over the place, i decided to finish it. The fic is quite advanced in spanish right now, but i only managed to translate two? or three chapters back in the day, when my english skills were very very poor, lmao.
> 
> some things you should know before deciding to read this fic:  
> —it's quite a crude story, elements of abuse are brought up, nothing explicit or morbid, though. So if that's not something you feel comfortable reading, maybe this fic isn't for you!  
> —chapters are looooooong, i truly apologize *sobs forever*  
> —i remember watching & reading a lot about geishas when i was doing my research to write this story, i still decided to take many liberties for the sake of the plot, so if you happen to know more about geishas than i do, please don't yell at me D:  
> —if you watched the kdrama "i miss you" you'll find tons of references here, lmfao.  
> —and last: this fic is somewhat based on the 40's 50's? but in an alternative universe. B-Basically just like the manga, now that i realize, lolol.
> 
> that's all. enjoy!

* * *

**«Scars deeper than love»**

* * *

_**«** Now you're gone and I can't see your smile anymore,_  
 _But I'll always remember your everything.  
_ _Having left you a scar deeper than love,_  
 _Now I find myself in regret **»**_

_**—yim jaebum.** _

* * *

The sway of the wagon was soothing, the rain running down her cheeks wasn't.

Mikasa felt the drops sliding down her closed eyelids, tracing a map throughout her neck, filling her ears and soaking her shattered and bloodstained clothes, _his_ scarf... her heart. For a moment, she felt smaller than ever, like a child being rocked in the arms of a mother, the constant movement of the wagon seemed to imitate that feeling pretty well, the only difference was that no arms were around her that night, and her mother wasn't there either. 

There was only darkness. Dry tears kissing the skin of her cheeks. Thunders roaring up in the sky and a body that ached and burned. The lights of a city she once dreamed to see blinded her sight, a city that captured her against her will, a city from which she knew, without a doubt, she'd never escape. The road was long, and although Mikasa couldn't find any sleep, she kept her eyelids firmly shut. The bruises in her face didn't matter, nor the rain threatening to drown her; the child begged to disappear, to submerge herself in the darkness because that was the closest thing to being dead. 

Her soft whimpers abandoned her hours later and the men driving the wagon didn't care about silencing her. The rain stopped, but her body continued to shiver without a body to hold on to. No bed, no arms to keep her safe, only a red scarf. There was nothing, only tears and the constant sound of the horses against moist ground. There was nothing, no one, _nothing..._

Mikasa Ackerman wasn't particularly famous for her love of storms, but that night... storms became her worst enemy. She'd hated rain even more, if that was possible.

Time went by and Mikasa opened her eyes when she noticed they'd abandoned the countryside in which she grew up her whole life to venture deeper into the city. _The city._ The first mighty wall rising with endless majesty, so tall they could almost kiss the stars. How many times Mikasa dreamed to see the walls, get lost in the magic behind them? Her brother used to talk about them all the time, traveling every weekend to sell the morning fish bait, the only source of money they could afford at the orphanage. He said the lights glimmered like stars during the night. He said the murmur of the townspeople was similar to the birds every morning, singing in the forest they used to visit to pick up fruit for lunch. Mikasa clenched her fists, was that the reason he kept talking about the city? Was that the reason his lips muttered stories in the dark, every night before going to bed? Was he preparing her for this?

Was everything a lie?

Mikasa forgot her misery for a second to drink in her surroundings, the people walking down the streets so late at night. How was that even possible? Did nobody sleep in here? The rain had stopped but people kept on laughing, breathing and living. Mikasa noticed women laughing uncontrollably on top of many men's lap, drinking beer and whispering secrets to their ears. 

The smell of freshly baked bread enveloped her entire self, making her stomach roar like a lion, reminding her how hungry she was. Dogs ran across the streets, dodging old rusty cars and kids played around in the night, some of them begging for alms. That's when Mikasa saw her.

A woman. The most beautiful woman Mikasa had ever seen. Dressed in a long, red kimono. Her mother used to keep one too, but that one couldn't compare in the slightest. She wore it with the elegance of a queen, floating around with delicacy. Her face was covered in pale make-up, like clouds, sugar and snow. Her lips tainted in a crimson red, smiled at her when she noticed her curious eyes, holding in her tiny arms a pink umbrella. The woman smiled at her, she smiled. Mikasa's eyes flickered in confusion. The wagon suddenly wooshed, stopping and making her tiny body crash against the door handle. She turned, terrified, as the men riding the wagon walked towards her, opening the door with a key and setting her free from the wooden cell she was trapped in. 

They helped her get out, her bare feet meeting the coldness of the ground. She wrapped her arms around herself, wanting nothing but to cry again, and her eyes searched for the woman in the red kimono, but she was gone, disappeared into the air like a ghost. Everything seemed to disappear that day. The man that opened the cell grabbed a broken blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, Mikasa looked up, surprised. Up until this point, she hadn't thought about what they'd do to her and she was not expecting a gesture like that. Mikasa wanted to cry, thank him for his kindness, but the man took her by the arm and forced her to follow him through dark and nauseous alleys. 

Suddenly, Mikasa froze. 

_No, please, don't... not again..._

"Is this the one?"

The voice of a woman disrupted her thoughts. Mikasa lifted up her gaze, not realizing they'd stopped in front of a door, the light of a lamp flickering as much as her heartbeats. The man beside her nodded, and without another word, the woman took her hand and dragged her inside the house, closing the door behind them. Mikasa never saw that man again. The lady took her through dark corridors and Mikasa realized she was also wearing a kimono, not as pretty and elegant as the one from the woman she saw earlier, it was grey and boring, but it looked expensive. 

Mikasa didn't know it then, but the architecture around her was very similar to the houses in the pleasure districts, her brother mentioned it before. Pleasure districts, where geishas lived.

Geishas, like the one she saw earlier in the city. Mikasa's body tensed.

They reached a shoji door, and the woman of pale hair beside her encouraged her to enter the room, following her in silence.

The room was filled with an intense smell of tobacco. The dim light of an oil lamp was all Mikasa's eyes could distinguish, and a woman. A beautiful woman sitting behind a desk, with long, onyx hair. She didn't look like she had more than fourty, her eyes an intense dark. She exhaled the smoke from her cigarette and stood up, walking towards Mikasa. 

She eyed the other woman.

"This is the one, Nanaba?"

Nanaba nodded with a sigh. The woman peered down at Mikasa, held her bruised chin, turning her face to one side and then to the other, scrutinizing her features and her hair. Her lips delivered a soft sigh.

"What's your name, child?"

Mikasa shivered, not daring to look at her in the eyes.

"M-Mikasa."

"Mikasa," the woman repeated, leaving her face alone to walk around the room in silence. "That's one pretty name. It means strength and protection. I like it. Do you know where you are, Mikasa?"

The girl shook her head, and the answer to that question made her impossibly sad. She didn't know where she was, she didn't know what they'd do to her, she knew nothing. Her eyes started to burn again.

The woman in front of her kept on smoking with elegance.

"You're in Shiganshina, in the pleasure district. This is an okiya, home of geishas and maikos. That one is Nanaba, you'll refer to her as aunt," the woman pointed at Nanaba with her finger. "And I'm Kiyomi, you'll refer to me as Mother. The incident in the orphanage won't be mentioned again, any emotional ties to your past must be broken tonight. We are your new family now. And, although I haven't paid for you as I usually do, I've bought you with my mercy, we have a debt now that you must pay with years of service. You'll begin by helping my girls with everything they need, and you'll watch and learn. You're an asian, aren't you?"

Kiyomi leaned closer, admiring her features. She smiled.

"You're very beautiful. You'll make me win a fortune."

Mikasa thought Kiyomi would say something else, but apparently, that was the end of the conversation. With a smile and smoking from her cigarette, Kiyomi returned to her desk as if nothing had happened. Nanaba grabbed her hand to abandon the room, leading her to a dark bathroom poorly lighted by another oil lamp. She got rid of her clothes, blurting out a sigh at the sight of the dried blood between her legs, the bruises in her skin. She helped Mikasa get into a bathtub and washed her body with care, Mikasa's sobs being the only sound echoing through the walls. The girl hugged her knees against her chest, Nanaba's hand running down her soaked hair over and over again, whispering a gentle "hush, hush, child, everything will be okay" that Mikasa didn't dare to believe. Nanaba combed her hair, dressed her in plain but new clothes and took her to a small room with a white futon on the floor. 

She helped Mikasa get into the bed, covered her body in soft warm blankets and Mikasa wished to tell her not to leave her, to keep the door open because darkness terrified her broken little heart, that she couldn't sleep if there wasn't any light near her, but her lips remained shut.

The thirteen-year-old child hugged the blankets as tears fell down from her eyes, she fell asleep shortly after. It was after that day that her real-life begun.

A life that would become her worst nightmare. 

**—o—**

**TEN YEARS LATER.**

_"I know there is fear in your hearts, hearts that have stopped beating before the impossibility  
_ _of being able to open up their wings and fly to freedom.  
There is fear in me too, but this is not the time to fear.  
It's time to spread our wings and fight. It is time for us to reclaim what's ours.  
This broadcast is dangerous, but I dare to face the cameras in front of me to send a direct message to Uri Reiss,  
son of his late father, Rhodes Reiss: the corruption ends here.  
The people will be free and I, Erwin Smith, will see to it that it is so."_

_-_

The voice of the blond man whom Hitch called "the man with the prominent eyebrows" spoke with great determination through the old rusty radio. The crowd at the conference applauded fervently, shouting and exclaiming, however Mikasa looked away and continued to fix her hair in front of the mirror. It was always good to tune in to this type of news before attending the teahouses, the men there were interested in politics and during the first few minutes the conversation always revolved around that; her job was to entertain them, nod when it was due and give her opinion when asked, smile and not argue anything against the judgments of her clients. Still, that didn't stop her from being interested in Erwin Smith and his ongoing fight against the corruption of the Reiss family. A war that did not seem to end, so monotonous that it had become boring.

"Ah," Sasha sighed, her butt landing dramatically on a chair, staring at the radio with her lips parted slightly. "Erwin is so handsome."

Mikasa grinned at her comment and continued to fix her hair. If you had to meticulously choose the exact words to describe what lied in the reflection of that old mirror, _porcelain doll_ would probably be her answer. They were the merchants' favorite, showing them off proudly behind their store shelves, paralyzed under a dazzling beauty and oblivious to what was happening around them. They were bought and sold, some were lucky enough to remain on the chimneys of their owners throughout the winter and others, instead, broken inside wooden boxes, hidden deep in a forgotten cellar full of mold. Mikasa considered herself a porcelain doll too, even her outfit and makeup resembled her. Although she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. 

It probably wasn't.

Mikasa raised her face gently and carefully observed the perfect black eyeliner, she was aware that only one look was capable of piercing the soul of the devil himself, it was the effect she had on men, an effect that she had strived to master year after year and which she now manipulated masterfully. Her little red lips gave the impression of an apple, a forbidden fruit that no one would ever dare to taste. The pale skin of her makeup made her look like the most beautiful woman that had ever walked on earth. She was also not sure if that was a good thing or not. 

It probably wasn't. 

Mikasa adjusted the sleeves of her silk kimono, a fabric as expensive as it was beautiful to look at. Those clothes were worth a fucking fortune and Mikasa was aware of the exact value of each dress carefully kept in her closet. She had many more compared to the rest of her sisters, a product of the good reputation that she'd managed to earn within the walls. Her obsession with red garments had distinguished her from the rest of the geishas by an amusing nickname. _The lady in red,_ they called her. The young woman smiled sadly at being recognized by that attractive name, considering that the color red had ceased to be her favorite a long, long time ago.

It didn't bring good memories.

Annie returned barefoot to the room with the earrings Mikasa had asked for. The young woman leaned in front of her with her small hands outstretched. 

"Here you go, sister." 

Mikasa glanced down at the girl and took the earrings in her hands. Gold. 

"I said the silver ones," Mikasa returned the earrings reluctantly. "Bring what I asked for."

Annie quickly nodded, whispering a "yes, sister" so softly that Mikasa could have imagined it. The girl abandoned the room quickly and Sasha blurted out a guilty laugh, rising from the chair to turn off the radio.

"You're too hard on her, you shouldn't talk to her that way," Sasha suggested carefully, as warm and gentle as only she could be.

Mikasa ignored her. Just because the pretty blonde was a simple maiko it didn't mean she could do whatever she wanted. After all, she was not yet a geisha and was walking the path of an apprentice, it was her obligation to lower her head and obey her older sisters in whatever way they wanted. Although to tell the truth, Mikasa took advantage of only a little of her position as a geisha, it felt good to have a maid who did not dare to reply or question any of your orders. It felt good to not be a slave for a change. 

"She must learn what discipline is, otherwise she will never be able to advance her training," she replied, looking at the clock impatiently and letting out a heavy gasp. "Where's Hitch? We'll be late!" 

Auntie appeared next to Annie, the girl holding the correct earrings and Mikasa thanked her with a nod. Nanaba placed a black velvet cloak over Sasha to cover her from the weather, no one could allow one of their geishas to catch a cold.

"You know how Hitch is. She'll be ready in a minute. Annie, dear, go tell her to hurry up.” Auntie covered Mikasa's back with her velvet cloak as well. "Grab your stuff, girls, the carriage is waiting outside! Come on!"

It was always this way before going to the teahouses. Hitch was late for nonsense. Mikasa took one last look at the mirror, arranging her cloak carefully and by order of Aunt Nanaba they left the room quickly, putting on their zori sandals that despite years and years of practice Mikasa still didn't get used to wearing, they were so uncomfortable that she lived with the fear that she would fall at any moment if she did not firmly hold on to something, luckily the clients always offered her their arms when walking, it was a good resource to avoid making a fool of herself in front of other people.

They ran through the corridors towards the entrance as Hitch appeared between them with a smile, Annie struggling to fix the last touches on her hair. Mikasa unfolded her pink fan, waving it fervently in front of her face, the air feeling heavy even despite the cold. 

"You're late." Mikasa pointed out the obvious, glaring at Hitch reluctantly.

But the girl didn't look mortified about it. She laughed, watching the sky once they abandoned the okiya, Annie contemplating the scene from the entrance, she was still not allowed to accompany them to tea appointments, as maiko her duty was to continue inside the okiya with her training. 

"Ah," Hitch blurted out an excited sigh. "Looks like a storm is coming tonight!"

Mikasa's eyes lifted up, the glassy sky covering everything around them. She didn't like storms. Nanaba helped them get into the carriage and the horses led them to their destination. This time they wouldn't go that far, at least not far enough to leave wall Maria and that was okay for Mikasa, her desire to work was null, but her wishes were always overshadowed by the duty that she was bound to fulfill day after day as a geisha, a duty that seemed to have no end. Mikasa didn't like thinking about it, how long would it take for her debt to Kiyomi to be finally paid off. If she gambled too much on that fleeting thought, she would end up going mad. 

Something inside her chest insisted that she would never leave that okiya. 

Never.

It was already dark when they reached the teahouse. The owner greeted them with kindness and helped them get out of the carriage, showing them the way in. Shiganshina was divided into two large neighborhoods, the poor and the rich, the vast majority of parties were hosted within the millionaire districts, where the greatest tycoons of the stock market requested their delicate attentions. But Mikasa had a much better privilege compared to that of her companions, Sasha and Hitch: her attentions were in great demand within wall Sina, the home of millionaires and politicians. She was constantly forced to travel to Sina to offer her services, the amount of money they paid to have her between their meetings was excessive, her mouth-watering at the numbers written on the paychecks.

In any case, these people also paid very well and a little money was always well received in their hands. 

The man led them through the narrow corridors to the private room, quite far from the murmur inside the main restaurant when Mikasa suddenly ran into Jean leaving one of the many available rooms sporting his so common black suit, giving it off a supernatural elegance, a worthy heir to the company of his powerful family. He looked up and smiled discreetly when their eyes met. They hadn't seen each other for a few weeks and Mikasa didn't know he was here in Shiganshina, although Kiyomi was probably aware of it. After all, Jean Kirsein is her danna.

Hitch and Sasha left Mikasa behind and entered the small room where they would begin their exhausting workday, she could hear the laughter of her clients welcoming them and the hysterical exclamations of Hitch. But Mikasa decided to wait a little longer before entering, Jean finishing saying goodbye to some people, probably partners of the company, and waited for them to leave to approach Mikasa slowly. Her lips curved into a smile.

"I didn't know you would be here, although Kiyomi sure does." 

Jean pulled his coat over his suit as his hands took leather gloves out of his pockets. 

"That's right, I spoke to her this afternoon," he said, sliding his long fingers through the fabric. "I told her to cancel all your plans on Saturday."

Her eyebrows lifted up in curiosity.

"Why's that?"

As soon as Jean finished putting on the gloves, he subtly moved closer to her and whispered in her ear. 

"Because I want you just for myself. Besides, I have a gift for you."

That was his parting phrase. Without setting up a scandalous or romantic scenario in front of other people — it could be misunderstood, especially if no one knew that he was her danna — Jean threw her one last glance, one that Mikasa responded with the most beautiful of smiles, and that seemed to be enough for him. Jean left the place and Mikasa decided that it was time to enter the room to start her work. 

The customers applauded when they saw her, the very lady in red for whom they had paid a fortune was next to them ready to entertain their hectic nights. Because, you see, that is what men look for in a geisha, an escape route from their monotonous lifestyles, with wives who don't give them what they really want and running into the arms of a simple prostitute could take away their good reputation, but that's what geishas existed for, high-class women who wouldn't spread their legs just like that, women who made them laugh and shared their knowledge of art and poetry.

Mikasa sat down on the ground next to them and the endless conversation began. It had been their job to know the exact way to entertain a man, the perfect technique to snatch sighs of pleasure at knowing that by their side they had a beautiful and unattainable woman, a woman with whom they could allow themselves to fantasize all kinds of illusions. Illusions they would never be able to accomplish. Geishas fulfilled the role of a goddess: untouchable, unreachable, and men were fascinated by the idea of possessing something that they couldn't have. They loved it.

And while Mikasa radiated sensuality, Hitch was a living clown, making every single man in the room laugh like a psychopath. To everyone's surprise within the okiya, Hitch had become a very popular geisha over time. She was outrageous, but maybe that's what customers liked. Someone to laugh with and forget about everything else, they would take pictures of her while she posed with a client's glasses, making funny faces with her face and hands. Sometimes Mikasa believed she was the only geisha within the okiya who really enjoyed her job. Sasha, gentle and silly as ever, told them about a cooking recipe that she had learned from a merchant in the city, the customers listened to her stories very attentively and laughed at the strange ingredients she mentioned.

But Mikasa was a completely different matter. Men preferred to have fun with her in a different way. They discussed their marriage issues and asked for her opinion on the matter, a subtle but obvious "and what would you do in her place?" where Mikasa should answer what they so fervently wanted to hear. 

"Did she really refuse to give you a foot massage? I would never deny a massage to someone as handsome as you, my hands are very skilled."

And they laughed, flushed, terribly excited, and Mikasa was forced to repeat the same monotony over and over again. She was tired, she hadn't been able to sleep well last night and all she wanted to do was lie down on a bed and rest, just rest, but she couldn't afford that right now. It was still two in the morning and there was a lot of work to do. Lighting the customers' cigarettes, pouring them sake and smiling, just grinning madly until her cheeks started to burn. Dance, play games, keep the men happy. A world so fragile and unreal. 

One of her clients placed a small glass of sake in front of her, grinning at her. Mikasa clenched her fists under the table, where they couldn't see her; she knew this would happen. 

"Drink."

He didn't ask nicely or suggested it, he ordered it. And Mikasa had no other choice but to smile and drink the first glass, then the second, the third, until she lost count and everything around her began to spin. But there was no room for complaints.

In the geisha world, the customer was always right.

**—o—**

"Goddammit, Jaeger. This is poker, stop laughing."

That comment made Eren laugh even harder. He leaned his back against the chair and his head almost fell off his neck, his lips blurting out all sorts of weird sounds. Yes, he was a real jerk, you weren't supposed to laugh while playing poker, you weren't supposed to show any expression at all but how could Eren not laugh when in his hands he had the cards that would lead him to victory? At his side, Connie rolled his eyes, annoyed at such a prelude, and Alger, his opponent, sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, I'm sorry…" Eren apologized. His lips whispered a sigh, cooling down, and his nod was the sign his opponent needed to resume the game. "Alright, let's keep going." 

Alger looked at him reluctantly and after a moment of deep consideration, he threw his cards on the table, serious as a rock. Eren cackled at what lied in front of him, which made Alger furious. Connie leaned toward Eren pleadingly. If that bastard didn't win the game, neither of them would win the deal, Connie wasn't ready to lose any more money again.

"Eren, let me see your cards!" He pleaded in a low voice.

But Eren ignored his friend. Perhaps with the intention of intimidating his opponent, he spent the next few minutes scrutinizing the half-empty tavern around him. For a Friday night, it was strange that the brothel looked this empty. Where were the drunkheads wanting to fuck? Asleep, apparently, or lost, or God knows where. So Eren released himself from his unnecessary duties as a Survey Corps soldier — dragging Connie with him, of course — and entered the tavern, ready to propose a pleasant game of poker and cast his luck into the hands of the Gods, not that he was too short of money or anything like that, but it was always nice to have a good gamble and fill his pockets with coins. He sighed, smiling, and glanced at Pieck, sitting next to him on the armchair. With no customers to serve, she had nothing better to do than to stay with them and watch them waste their money in the most pathetic of ways, as only men could do. 

Holding his deck, Eren took it to Pieck's mouth.

"Blow. I need your luck," he begged. 

Pieck rolled her eyes but didn't protest. She blew off the cards twice and Eren knew there was no going back. He nodded excitedly and gave Alger one last stare.

He spread his cards in front of him and Alger let out an exasperated sigh.

"Sorry, _ladies,_ " Eren scoffed, leaning back against the chair and wrapping his arm around Pieck's waist. "Straight, in diamonds. Read 'em and weep."

Connie squealed with delight, ruffling his friend's hair, but the excitement didn't last long. Eren didn't notice when Frank put down his deck and silence filled the dark brothel. 

"A royal flush," he announced, serious and emotionless as he dragged all the money on the table towards him. The next warning didn't go unnoticed by Eren. "You owe me a hundred gold coins, _lady_. Otherwise, I'll kick your fucking ass."

The night rapidly concluded with Eren promising to pay him what he owed — though he had no idea where the damn money would come from — and Connie complaining like an old grandma, whining and wondering why the hell was he still his friend. _I'm handsome and you can't live without me,_ Eren had replied. They both said goodbye to the beautiful Pieck and Eren carried his jacket over his shoulder as he carefully watched the sky flashing with lightning, the rain beating down the rooftops of Shiganshina. Eren didn't care about getting wet, it was just rain, he would change his clothes once he was home. Even if it was late, he had to make sure to make Kuchel a call before going to bed. He could already hear the exaggerated monologue she would throw at him from over the line.

"You're a bastard, I couldn't sleep because of you, why haven't you called me before! Do you know how worried I've been?"

He smiled, amused, as he rambled through the narrow streets dimly lit by lanterns, sighing when the raindrops kissed his cheeks. It was relaxing in some way and Eren always liked the rain. It wasn't until he turned around the corner, next to the alley where the garbage and abandoned dogs were hiding, that he felt his body stumble against something hard and tall. Eren blinked, staggering, raindrops infiltrating the corners of his eyes. In the darkness of the night, he moved back, confused. He was surprised to see that it was a girl. A geisha. 

The girl fell to her knees and he noticed the way she was struggling to stand, she wasn't even trying, and she almost seemed grateful for the collision, she wouldn't have a reason to get up. If Eren hadn't spoken, he'd thought she'd fell asleep right against the wall.

Then he noticed it. She was drunk. Very drunk.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked, unsure, leaning down to grab her by the arm and help her stand.

The woman brought a hand to her forehead, head aching, frowning deeply as her makeup gradually faded in the rain. She looked at him, confused.

"Who are you?" her words stuck on her tongue. 

Eren chuckled softly in response. Her hair was a real mess, and her kimono looked ruined, filled with mud.

"You're good? Do you even know where you're going?" he asked one more time.

The geisha looked around somewhat disoriented but nodded several times. 

"Y-Yeah, yeah… I'm—Ah!"

The girl winced when a clap of thunder roared in the distance. She staggered, covering her ears exaggeratedly and sobbing like a child. Eren smiled softly, her fear of thunders becoming very evident. Or maybe she was just too drunk. He felt sorry for her. 

"Hey, do you want me to—"

Her hand rose up in the air, rejecting any kindness from him, repeatedly shaking her head and deciding to get back on her way without his help. He watched her go, her tall wooden shoes occasionally slipping in the mud and her hands constantly covering her ears, her back jerking every time the lightning struck again. Eren sighed, turning around and walking back home. As the rain fell and the thunders clattered, his lips curved into a sad smile full of nostalgia at the memory of a special person, someone who also used to fear thunderstorms like that geisha he stumbled upon seconds ago.

Eren snorted, his smile fading immediately to open the door of insurmountable grief.

It was pointless to even think about it.

**—o—**

"The place is looking good. Congratulations, Armin. I always knew you would go far."

Armin Arlert, a recent sub-owner of a major teahouse within the Shiganshina uptown neighborhoods, smiled sheepishly at Jean's compliments. Even despite the intense headache that plagued her mind that night, Mikasa smiled too. The majority of the men running the teahouses in Shiganshina weren't much of her liking, they used to be repulsive and perverted, glancing too much and spilling obscene comments behind their backs, but Armin Arlert wasn't like that. Tall, slim and impossibly blond, Armin was the cutest and politest boy she'd ever met. Straightforward and extremely intelligent, Armin had earned the respect of Jean Kirstein himself for acquiring the ownership of one of Shiganshina's most popular teahouses, one that belonged to the Kirstein family.

With such great financial backing, Armin was able to afford a good life and abandon the misery that once plagued him to climb higher and higher in status. He was a boy worthy of admiration, constantly preoccupied with outdoing himself. 

"The place looks great!" Sasha exclaimed, watching the crowd, but then grimaced. "Hey, Armin, by any chance... where is the buffet? It's just that I didn't have breakfast this morning and — " 

"Sasha," Nanaba pulled the girl's arm, deeply embarrassed. But Armin laughed. 

"Right over there, Sash." His blue eyes, so blue like the sky and deep as the sea, landed on Mikasa. "Everything is ready."

She nodded, taking Sasha's hand and moving towards the buffet, followed by Aunt Nanaba, while Jean decided to stay behind and keep his conversation with Armin. The crowd smiles at her when they saw her arrive. Women with envy, men with desire and admiration. The soft jazz music filled the air with elegance, and a child stopped dancing when she saw her pass by her side, as beautiful and ethereal as a porcelain doll. In secret, Mikasa winked at her, a fleeting glimpse of the first time Mikasa had seen a geisha. Sasha rushed to the table full of delicacies waiting to be tasted and began to gobble grapes left and right. Mikasa, on the other hand, simply decided to drink some white wine from a glass, receiving constant praise from guests all around her. _Good evening Mikasa, it is always a pleasure to see you. But how beautiful! Mom, someday I want to be like her._

Mikasa nodded, smiling, not saying anything else. Sasha, on the other hand, told her about a bicycle that she found with Hitch and those anecdotes turn her bad mood into something unbearable. To top it off, the hangover from the night before wasn't gone yet, her head seemed to want to explode into a thousand pieces and her sister didn't seem to be of much help. 

"Mother is mad that you ruined her kimono," she commented, her mouth full of food. 

"How surprising," Mikasa replied, cold as ice. "Jean will pay for it if that is her concern." 

Nanaba looked at her reluctantly. 

"If Mother could hear you now... by the Gods, child."

A bunch of ugly pigs forced her to drink against her will, and yet she was to blame for ruining a stupid kimono? None of that would have happened if Sasha and Hitch had waited for her to leave and they didn't. Mikasa had to walk the streets of Shiganshina in complete solitude under a deplorable storm because she had also not been able to find the carriage that was supposed to bring her back to the okiya. She was tired, too tired and sick of receiving complaints from Kiyomi when all Mikasa wanted was to rest. Just rest, lie under the shade of a tree and watch the sky and close her eyes and hear the birds sing. But it was something she could never afford to have again. With much resentment she had learned to accept it.

Her friend didn't dare to say anything more and in silence, Mikasa took a look around her. Everything looked perfect, just as Kiyomi wanted it. That day was important, too, since Annie would debut for the first time as an official maiko. She would dance for the guests and imitate almost all the movements of her older sisters to be accepted within the community, to receive the compliments of men and Mikasa knew that it would be so, Annie had an unearthly beauty. Where Mikasa stood out due to her exotic and oriental features, Annie was a walking doll, blonde and beautiful, Even if she was not overly sympathetic to the girl — she had found her rummaging through her things on numerous occasions — she knew she would do well in the geisha world.

Hitch arrived over to the table to get some juice, Sasha chose to leave the meal momentarily and help Annie fix her blonde hair, who was already beginning to receive curious looks from the guests. Mikasa walked away from her companions and paced around the house, bored. Jean abandoned his conversation with Armin and approached Mikasa along with other men, ready to talk about the same things over, and over, and over again.

They congratulated Jean on having acquired such a perfect and acclaimed geisha as Mikasa, then politics. That Erwin Smith would win the war, that he would free us all from the corruption of the Reiss, that Uri should get death penalty, a thousand other things of which Jean avoided expressing his opinion very openly, his position and reputation in the political sphere had to be careful and discrete. When the men abandoned the group to talk to other people, Jean took advantage of the silence to speak to her.

"You look stunning," he whispered, rearranging his tie slightly.

Mikasa smiled at him with little encouragement, her pale makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes. 

"Don't you think the whole thing is taking too long? We've been waiting for a while now." 

And Mikasa was right. The musicians didn't even seem ready to begin with Annie's special performance. However, on the other side of the teahouse, a pair of green eyes were already in front of the front door, searching impatiently for a certain blond. Armin Arlert carried a tray of dishes into the kitchen when a familiar voice made him jump hysterically. 

"Hey, coconut head!" 

The blond dropped the tray onto the ground, the thousand pile of plates clattering against hard wood. He turned, fearful, but his eyes widened brightly at the sight of Eren Jaeger standing in the doorway, wearing his very intimidating Corps uniform. Armin's lips turned into a smile that beamed throughout his gorgeous face, forgetting about the dishes scattered on the floor.

"Eren!"

His friend laughed, amused. Armin ran to him like a little kid, enveloping his strong body into his weak, delicate figure. Eren chuckled, Armin could be a little baby sometimes, but that was _his_ baby. His hand ruffled Armin's hair, patting his back firmly, his thin body stumbling at the strength in Eren's arms. 

"Did you miss me?"

"I didn't know you were in Shiganshina!" Armin's voice reverberated with excitement. He pulled away from Eren, eyeing his entire self. "Ah, I'm still not used to seeing you dressed like this."

Eren pinched his cheeks, making him gasp with annoyance. 

"I arrived a few days ago, they wanted me back in Quinta. They required my amazing skills."

"You should have told me!" Armin looked behind Eren, searching for someone with his eyes. "And Levi? Is he with you too?"

"No, he had to stay in Mitras." 

"Hey, Armin!"

Connie and Marco suddenly appeared, also dressed in their military uniforms and both with a big smile ran towards Armin to wrap him in a big hug. As soldiers of the Survey Corps, their work within the walls was continuous, their perpetual travels between the different cities turned their lives into a hectic monotony, but every time Eren had to work inside wall Maria, he never missed the opportunity to visit one of his most faithful friends, Armin Arlert. Even if the boy was cowardly and not at all adventurous, avoiding getting fully involved in the civil war that threatened the lives of everyone every day, Armin had gotten him out of many troubles throughout his existence and Eren knew he would always have an intense debt to him. 

"Ah, stop pinching my ear!" Armin complained, pushing Connie away with a forced smile. "But what are you guys doing here?"

Eren adjusted his leather gloves.

"We have to meet some assholes from the Garrison Regiment, you know, confidential information and shit."

"Oh, well, you should hurry then. One of the maikos will debut her dance in a few minutes."

Eren scuffed, irritated. The few visits he had made to the teahouses were exceedingly boring. Geishas weren't the kind of company Eren used to hang out with, unlike the rest of the men — including many of his fellow Corps friends — Eren didn't find them as beautiful, mysterious, and stunning as they did. Unlike them, Eren found them terribly fake, porcelain dolls used by great tycoons for their own amusement. Maybe it was a somewhat macho thought, but Eren preferred the company of prostitutes, women free from all kinds of pressures who warmed his bed on rainy nights and were not tied to any kind of formal rule. Somehow Eren found more freedom with them than with the geishas of Shiganshina.

Putting aside his prejudices and the annoyance that surrounded him at what would be a long and exhausting night, Eren and his companions entered the teahouse and met with the right people, sitting in the right seats as the lights turned off to make way for what would be the great presentation of the new maiko. To tell the truth, she was very beautiful. As a man, Eren was particularly attracted to women with golden hair, as bright and pale as a cloud. The guests were enraptured by her classic dance, her long blonde hair dancing in time with her movements like a golden waterfall.

Eren snorted as he looked away from the maiko to discover that someone very special was sitting a few feet away from them. He sneakily tapped his companions' shoulders, pointing with his chin. 

"Look who's there," he announced in a whisper. "Horse face."

Jean Kirstein watched the performance intently, tilting his face and carefully inspecting the dancing beauty in front of his eyes. Eren snorted. 

Fucking asshole.

**—o—**

Mikasa couldn't even last five minutes watching the performance. 

Without even whispering a word to her danna sitting next to her, Mikasa left the teahouse carrying her long cigarette holder and settled in front of the building's door to smoke in complete silence, the city lights lighting up the perfect shape of her eyes while her lips exhaled the smoke, slowly disappearing in the arid air of the lonely streets. Not that smoking was her favorite hobby, and it was not that Mikasa liked the taste of nicotine sliding down her tongue either, but it was a bad habit she'd learned to adapt after sleepless nights and painful memories. Somehow, that miserable cigarette managed to reassure her a bit.

Mikasa could hear the music from Annie's presentation. She'd already had to go through these kinds of situations and she wasn't too excited to witness them again. The guests, including Jean, were too focused on Annie's performance to notice if the lady in red was still present, so she supposed no one would care when they saw her leave the ceremony. Maybe they hadn't even noticed. Mikasa carefully observed people walking through the streets, Shiganshina was a too crowded city despite being small and — a large part of the population — poor, Mikasa liked to stay hidden behind the windows of her room, or under the roof from the okiya and silently watch people go by, buying things in a store, children playing ball dodging cars as they passed, for years she considered herself a very observant person. That had been her job since she entered the okiya; observe. Observing her former older sisters and imitate them in everything, a habit that little by little managed to make her what she was today.

Somehow, watching, she could feel part of them, of the people, of normality. She could see herself strolling down the streets with the wings of freedom unfurling from her slim back. She could see herself belonging to a world she was not really a part of, a world that once belonged to her, but not anymore. Not anymore.

Now everything was gray, everything was dark, now it always rained. 

The sky gave one last warning and Mikasa looked up with narrowed eyes, the wind tearing her eyelids and bristling her skin. She sighed, closing her eyes, she could smell the scent of an upcoming rain permeating her skin, fluttering her hair tied in a high bun over her head. She stubbed out her cigarette when she realized the ceremony was over, the applause ran high and little by little the guests left the teahouse, gathering at the entrance to talk about how beautiful Annie had been, about the delicious food and good care from that teahouse that little by little was gaining a great reputation within Shiganshina. 

Sasha and Hitch came to meet her stating that Annie was still saying goodbye to some guests, both being very curious to find her outside the teahouse, why hadn't she decided to stay for the ceremony? Hitch joked, saying that maybe she was jealous that now another girl had arrived to take away the position that she had worked so hard to get. Sasha laughed. Mikasa ignored them, asking if Jean had already left the establishment to find him and leave before the rain washed her away. Her eyes traveled over the crowd of guests, trying to find him. 

Then she saw him. 

She saw _him._

Tall, untamed hair like a summer storm, like the thunderstorms she feared so fervently. 

They terrified her. 

He wore the uniform of the Survey Corps. His olive skin glowing in the dark, his green eyes... his eyes... 

She would have recognized that pair of eyes anywhere.

Anywhere, even in hell itself. 

A gasp. Two. Shaking hands and a pair of lungs that forgot to breathe as if they had never been created for that insignificant task. Everything around her seemed to stop, the singing of the birds, the cars passing by, the barking of the dogs in the alleys... and Mikasa cannot fully understand what is happening. A voice inside her mind whispers to her that it is just a nightmare, that her eyes are not really seeing him, that it is not him… that she is probably mistaking him for someone else, as she did so many times in the past. It's not him, he can't. 

No. 

It was just a joke, her mind playing tricks on her. Because if there was one thing Mikasa managed to get used to for ten years, it was the constant nightmares that disturbed her nights. Skin soaking wet, trembling lips, tears spilling from her lids as if they had witnessed a catastrophe… it was always that way. Nightmares where he smiled, where everything was as it used to be. _I don't want to wake up, don't let me wake up…_ but the dream was diverting its course and the blood on her body was the only thing she could see. 

Ten years, right there in front of her. 

Without even noticing it Mikasa staggered, clinging awkwardly to some wooden pillars behind her, hearing Sasha's exaggerated concern. Then Armin stepped between them, he didn't even notice they were there and walked towards him. 

"Hey Eren, you forgot your gloves!" 

Eren. Eren. Eren. Eren. 

She gasped, terrified. 

Terrified. Remembering. 

_"It's going to rain. I don't like rain, and it's cold!"_

_"Here, take my scarf."_

Mikasa's hand traveled around her neck, her fingertips tracing a line over the place where that scarf had been clinging for a long, long time. Mikasa sobbed. She wanted to vomit, even had the feeling that things around her were beginning to spin. Sasha's voice was getting more and more frantic. 

"Mikasa, are you okay? Why are you crying?"

Stupid. Stupid girl, why can't you pretend? Why can't you just pretend that all of that just doesn't matter? She couldn't. Not when his green eyes met hers, curious, and Mikasa felt as if someone had smeared cement on her body, little by little hardening to the point where not even her fingers seemed to want to react. Paralyzed like ice itself. He watched her, inquiring, perhaps fearful. Why the hell would a geisha look at him that way, like she'd witnessed a ghost for the first time? 

It all went to hell when Armin followed Eren's gaze and saw it too. Then she called out her name.

Big mistake. 

No, no, don't say it... he can't know... 

"Oh, Mikasa, come!" Armin yelled, grinning, waving his hand.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Eren felt that someonel had just stabbed him from the back with an object that was too cold, too sharp, too painful. For a moment he cannot understand the situation, even if he always considered himself an alert and agile-minded boy in all kinds of situations, having to test these skills within his work as a soldier of the Survey Corps. But in that instant... in that fleeting yet endless instant... Eren was unable to move.

He was drowning. He couldn't breathe, the blood from that stab was slowly beginning to flood his lungs... a deathly cold ran down his spine and he looked at Armin, shivering. Fearing the worst. Fearing something he had long believed he was ready to face. And that fear had a name, a name that only appeared in his dreams, a name that he sought and never found again, a name that was probably the only one of its kind, a name that Armin had just uttered too normally. Like it meant nothing.

The geisha looked at him, Eren looked at her, so pale and ghostly… and not because of her makeup. There was something else. Her tears, her body expression… she looked as terrified as he was. 

He blinked, then knew. After so many years... after so much, so much... 

Eren knew.

Mikasa decided — even if she wasn't in the condition to make any kind of coherent decision — that this had been too much, that it was enough. Leaving his green eyes behind, Mikasa immediately turned around, frantic, desperate, tripping over her own feet and abandoning her wooden sandals on the pavement, little caring about the cold of the ground or the thunder or rain that had started to fall from the sky in a frenzy. As she ran, crying, trembling, she slipped through the crowd that was walking through the streets trying in some poor and absurd way to hide from his eyes that chased her like a hunter chases his prey. Then she heard his voice. Her name. 

_Mikasa!_

Why? Why? Why? 

The rain engulfed her in a deadly embrace as she ran with all her might despite the discomfort of her kimono, so tight and heavy. She ran and ran and ran, crashing into the people around her, the soles of her feet piercing shards of glass scattered across the grimy streets. She ran, she ran, she ran, and not once he stopped yelling at her name. He followed her, chased her, like he did so many times in her dreams.

Like he never did years ago. 

She couldn't let him find her. Mikasa wasn't entirely sure where she was going. Little by little the crowd in the city thinned until she entered a dark and lonely alley, the rain being her only company, her only torture, her only misery. Mikasa scooted behind the wall, the back of her kimono smearing with grime from the bricks, tilting her face slightly to watch him and covering her mouth with the palms of her hands to try to muffle her exasperated crying. And she heard his footsteps, heard them as clearly as his voice, broken and as desperate as his legs that'd crossed almost the entire city to find her. She saw him stop in the middle looking around uneasily, panting, he looked like a madman who had just left his asylum, the people around him walking and trying to escape the rain. He looked at them all, maddened.

_Don't see me, please don't find me..._

"Mikasa!" He yelled, his voice breaking as he spoke her name, his voice sapping what little strength he had left. "Mikasa!"

She shook her head. One, two, three, a thousand times. She covered her ears with her hands, biting her lips so hard she could feel them bleed. 

_Stop, please stop… no…_

"MIKASA!"

She heard him sob, his hands holding his head in distress as if he'd just lost the most valuable thing in his life... again. Even if Mikasa didn't know it, even if her intense pain didn't allow her to see things clearly, the situation would repeat itself again… again… ten years later. The wound that had bled within Eren for so long… that knife had ripped through him again, deeper, bigger. And Eren knew that this time he wasn't going to heal. 

It was her. It was her. He was sure, so sure. It had to be her. 

He screamed her name again, not caring about his throat breaking in the process, he would scream her damn name as many times as necessary. Mikasa heard him again, louder, more intensely, and he left. He ran straight into the next street and his footsteps and screams were lost with the sound of the rain, with the thunder making her shiver and jump instead, huddled next to that garbage container while keeping her ears protected from the lightning. From his voice.

His voice was the vilest of thunders. And when she found out that he was gone, Mikasa cried. Over and over again until she thought she was dizzy and gasped for breath. She gasped uneasily, holding onto the garbage container firmly. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't, she just couldn't, she had dealt with these kinds of panic attacks so many times… the rain and thunder didn't help. Nothing helped. 

_"It's going to rain. I don't like rain, and it's cold!"_

_"Here, take my scarf."_

She shook her head repeatedly. 

"Mikasa!"

"No, no!" she yelled again, arms holding onto a pair of shoulders. But it wasn't Eren who spoke her name impatiently. It was Jean. Mikasa looked up, overwhelmed, he watched her terrified. It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed one of these situations, he knew how to deal with them, but this one had been so unforeseen and sudden and outrageous… neither of them expected something like that. His men were a few steps behind her, holding umbrellas everywhere, yet Jean had been soaked through and didn't seem to care. He held her by the cheeks forcing her to look at him. 

"Mikasa, shhh, calm down."

"J-Jean..." She leaned toward him, crying, and Jean made a sign for his men to hold on. Firmly he wrapped his arms around her, his voice whispering her name over and over, it sounded so different from the way Eren did, so desperate, so broken... Jean murmured his name like a song too well known, a melody that calmed her most desperate fears. 

"Shh, I'm here, it's okay. I'm here." 

Although Mikasa's body did not stop the shivering, Jean managed to calm her down. He helped her get up and after placing a blanket around her, his driver opened the car door for them, both getting into the back seat. Jean ordered them to return to the okiya and Mikasa closed her eyes, crying silently, with the lost impulse in the back of her throat to tell him no, that she did not want to go to the okiya, that all she wanted was for that car to start and never stop, never. But she didn't. Jean wrapped her in his arms and she snuggled against his chest, trembling, her lower lip bleeding, his green eyes piercing her mind every time she closed her eyes. 

The drive ended too fast for Mikasa. When they left the car and Nanaba opened the okiya door for them with great surprise — apparently they had returned earlier — Jean entered the house without saying a single word, holding Mikasa by the shoulders and dragging her to her room. Within that okiya Jean could do whatever he wanted, he was the owner of Mikasa, he financed each of her expenses and he knew that that was the reason why Kiyomi said absolutely nothing when she saw her arrive, smoking from her pipe and leaning against the bedroom door. Mikasa didn't even glance at her and Jean didn't bother to greet her either.

He ordered Nanaba to exchange her kimono for dry, comfortable clothes, and she did. Jean waited in front of the door while Nanaba took off her kimono, sighing heavily as she noticed that it was completely ruined, again. She put new clothes on her, just as she did the first day he met her and when she finished she left the room, granting Jean permission to enter.

He sat on the edge of the bed right in front of her. Mikasa sat silently, hugging her knees as the lightning outside the city didn't seem to want to give her any peace. Jean was silent for a few seconds, but his voice was steady when he decided to speak. 

"Mikasa," he said patiently. "What happened?"

She avoided eye contact. Her gaze stayed on her shaking hands, trying to force herself to hold them still, but it was impossible. 

"I don't know," she whispered slowly, lying. "The storm scared me."

"Mikasa." Jean warned, clearly not believing a single word.

"It's late, Jean. You should go home."

Mikasa didn't really know if her words were honest or not. Nor did she know if it was really what she wanted. Jean had a wife, a woman to whom he owed fidelity and yet he had not hesitated to be her danna, her protector. He'd said that their marriage was nothing more than political arrangements between families, that it was necessary to be able to climb to the top, to where Jean always wanted to be. Mikasa cared little, in any case, it was better for Jean to be seen in the arms of a geisha than a prostitute. Jean hadn't gotten a bad reputation for it, and although Mikasa had absolutely no feelings for him, she knew things were different for Jean. 

"I'll come back tomorrow, okay?" 

She nodded, saying nothing more, and Jean leaned down to plant a kiss on her head. Silently he rose from the bed and left the room, closing the sliding door slowly. 

Loneliness. 

All Mikasa felt after Jean left was loneliness. 

An empty room, dry tears on her cheeks and a rain that tortured her every minute. She didn't even know why she did it, she didn't quite understand that absurd impulse but she left her bed and went to her dresser. She bent down on the floor until she reached the last drawer, the most hidden one. She removed all the things, throwing them to the ground, then she saw it. 

At the bottom, wrinkled and withered, was her red scarf.

She hadn't put it back on since she first stepped on the okiya. Even after everything that had happened, for some strange reason — perhaps against her will, perhaps at the whim of a thirteen-year-old girl — she asked Nanaba to not throw away the garment, to wash it, to keep it. When she handed it to her clean and dry, Mikasa didn't put it back on. She hid it at the bottom of her drawer and that piece of cloth that contained so many memories never saw the light of day again. 

Until now. 

Her eyes clouded with tears when Mikasa took the garment carefully, holding the old, withered fabric between her hands, her fingers slowly sliding across the canvas. A scarf that once gave her the warmth to live, to keep holding on. But many things had changed since then. The fabric now felt cold against her fingers. Very cold. The warmth that had once kept her warm was gone. It had died. And Mikasa let it go, the stabbing and cutting pain in her chest, she let it go, transforming into a sob full of rage, of helplessness. 

Of hate. 

She crumpled the fabric in her hands, wishing it would consume into ashes.

"Bastard..." she sobbed, wrinkling her face and clenching her teeth. "You bastard!"

And then she threw the scarf onto her bed with great force, her crying overshadowing the storm out there and Mikasa cared very little if someone inside the okiya heard her pathetic wailing. 

_"It's going to rain. I don't like rain, and it's cold!"_

_"Here, take my scarf."_

"I hate you! Go to hell, I don't want it anymore! Asshole!"

When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a long crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls off the wall it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it's completely silent. You would think as it's so important it would make the loudest noise in the whole world, or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell. But it's silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.

But there is. It's internal, a scream so loud that your ears bleed and your head aches. So wild, like an open wound exposed to salt water. But when it actually breaks, there's only silence. You scream from the inside, but nobody can hear it.

That night, silence overwhelmed Mikasa Ackerman from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

That night, even if she didn't know, Eren Jaeger experienced the same frightening silence too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #randomfacts.
> 
> Geisha: a geisha is traditional japanese artist, they begin their training at a very young age and their job is to entertain at parties, meetings, etc. They are not prostitutes.
> 
> Danna: a danna was typically a wealthy man, sometimes married, who had the means to support the very large expenses related to a geisha's traditional training and other costs. A geisha and her danna may or may not be in love, but intimacy is never viewed as a reward for the danna's financial support.
> 
> Maiko: an apprentice geisha.
> 
> Okiya: house of geishas.
> 
> -
> 
> i feel so sorry for Jean, he's always the villain in every eremika fic *sobs* I'M SORRY JEANBOO I LOVE YOU.
> 
> I've always been extremely attached to this fic ever since i started it many years ago, it became very popular in the spanish fandom but my english wasn't good enough yet to translate it the way i wanted. But now i'm kind of a pro *flips hair* so i thought it'd be nice to give it a try, i know the fandom is almost dead now but i don't care, i really haven't read any new fics or anything so i have no idea how things are going around at the moment, i just hope people keep on loving eremika as much as i do.
> 
> a kind comment and kudo is always very, very appreciated <3
> 
> follow me on twitter if you wanna (@misswongs_) i scream about all sorts of things, including eren's abs.


	2. Extremely Cruel and Incredibly Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren wonders if the woman he saw that night was indeed Mikasa, and Jean prepares a special gift for his favorite geisha.

* * *

**«Scars deeper than love»**

* * *

_**«** Why live life from dream to dream?_   
_And dread the day that dreaming ends? **»**_

_**—randy crawford.** _

* * *

Black. 

Eyes so black as coffee, deep and haunting, so deep that they are capable of holding an entire universe within them, endless stars and constellations and galaxies that suck all of your senses, an endless downfall, a black hole in which Eren wouldn't have bothered fall into forever.

Her short hair, her easy smile, her long and thick eyelashes... all of her stands still before him, waiting. He tries to follow her, feet and cobblestones and a city that engulfs him like a silent whimper, but she escapes. She runs far, far away from him, the thunders roaring in the sky open the door to a raging storm and Eren runs with all his might, with all his being, with all his heart. 

Not again. 

_MIKASA!_

He shouts her name, insists on pronouncing it but his vocal cords don't emit any sound, his voice remains lost at the back of his throat and his lungs breathe with the asthma of an old bandonion. He hears Mikasa laugh and for a moment she turns around, smiling, almost mocking. No, no, no. She escapes, like rain slipping through his fingers the girl in the red kimono escapes again and Eren can't do anything but scream.

She doesn't listen to him. She never does.

That night was the worst so far. He woke up multiple times under the influence of alcohol, his body covered in sweat as the rain pattered against the roof of his house, the window sobbing crystal tears that Eren learned to adopt as his own. Maybe it was the beer that arrived at his door like a savior angel after chasing her for what felt like hours, maybe it was the exhaustion and the cold and the soreness in his body but Eren woke up too many times that night, more than he could count. Tears descended from his eyes like acid, burning his skin, irritating his eyes, he laid motionless in his bed staring absently into the darkness, trembling, then his gaze drifted to his hands. 

His hands. 

There was blood in them once, a lot of blood. Broken glass piercing through his skin, leaving scars deeper than love. And there was blood on her hands too. But neither made a move to let go, not in a million years they considered that possibility; his fingers clung to hers so firmly that it terrified him now—to think that he never held something so strongly again in his life. And they cried. He, a coward; she, as brave as the wings of freedom. Braver, so much braver than what he had been, than what he was today, than what he will ever be.

_"Let's go home, y-yeah?"_

A promise broken amidst constant stuttering. 

_"L-Lets go home..."_

A promise he wasn't able to keep.

Even when the sun had already penetrated through the curtains of his messy room hours ago, Eren remained on his bed, his gaze lost on a worn-out ceiling, his chest rising and falling slowly. He wanted to sleep again, close his eyes softly and fall into a deep abyss, but the phone next to his bed began to scream desperately.

Riiing. Riiiing. Riiiiiiing.

Without even turning around to look, Eren took the handset and brought it to his ear, patient, his hoarse, lazy voice muttering a bored "Hello?" 

_"Baby!"_

Eren sighed at the sound of her voice. His eyes fell shut. It was Historia.

"Hey."

_"I called you at your house in Klorva but you didn't answer so I assumed you were out of town. I spoke with Marco and he said you were in Shiganshina. Were you sleeping?"_

Eren rubbed his eyes.

"I just woke up. I didn't sleep well last night."

Historia groaned in frustration on the other line.

 _"Oh, baby,"_ she sighed, her high-pitched voice mingling with the sound of what seemed to be a large crowd. _"Well, Marco just told me to let you know that Erwin wants you all in Rose by noon, he and dad will call a meeting at the barracks."_

Meeting? Fuck. He hadn't even been in Shiganshina for a week and he already had to go back to Rose again? In other times, under other circumstances… it wouldn't have bothered him, not really. But now was different. He saw her, or at least he believes he saw her... he couldn't leave without seeing her again, he had to make sure that what happened last night was real. But he also knew he couldn't abandon his responsibilities without getting his ass kicked by Erwin Smith himself. Eren sighed, exhausted. That day promised to be a real piece of shit.

"What time is it?" Eren asked, somewhat disoriented, searching for a watch that he didn't seem to find. 

Historia giggled. 

_"You're a mess, it's ten o'clock. Marco said he would be waiting for you at the tavern at eleven to leave. And guess what? I'm in Rose too! I promise I'll give you tons of kisses when I see you, so you can sleep better tonight."_

Eren couldn't help but blurt out a tired laugh at her comment.

"Alright. See you there." 

_"Until a few hours! I love you."_

Eren didn't give a reply to that.

The call ended and Eren left the comfort of his bed to take a light shower. Even if his schedule was tight, even if he knew he had to hurry to meet Marco at the tavern... he didn't know how long he stood there under the shower, each drop slowly numbing the tensed muscles of his back, his forehead leaning against the cold wall while keeping his eyes firmly closed as if that simple gesture would completely banish all the screaming voices in his head. Eren didn't know how long he stayed there, alone.

Probably an hour. Or more, who knows.

Who knows.

 _Let's go home_ , he'd said. 

That phrase echoed in his mind all night and under a shower that didn't seem to let him go. Over the years Mikasa Ackerman had managed to become his personal ghost. A spirit as beautiful as it was terrifying that haunted his most terrible nightmares, but also smiled at him in his most beautiful dreams. Unfortunately, these last ones were an oddity.

Mikasa. Mikasa. Mikasa.

Was he going insane? Had his mind played a trick on him? The same woman who crashed into his body that stormy night... drunk, scared... a geisha. He recognized her at the teahouse, he knew it was her because Eren rarely managed to forget a face. Within the Scouts he was known for his remarkable visual skills, if they had to catch a thug or conspire against a soldier from the Military Police... just a miserable photo was enough for Eren to identify him in a hellish crowd, it was one of his many talents.

Until Armin spoke her name, a name as forbidden as it was longed for. A name that — even under his own uncertainty — Eren knew was the only one of its kind, it had to be the only one. Kuchel herself had been the author of it, it was the product of her creation. There was no other Mikasa, there wasn't, there couldn't be.

But Eren saw her, or at least he thinks he saw her, or maybe it was another ghost from his nightmares coming back to torture him. But ghosts didn't cry, they didn't meet your gaze with nameless terror and ran through a crowd as if the devil were chasing them. Eren never forgot a face… Eren could have never forgotten her face… yet there he was, wondering to himself if that geisha was really the Mikasa Ackerman he once knew. He loathed himself for it, he loathed himself so deeply.

"Maybe it's another Mikasa." Marco had suggested patiently after Eren decided to have a few drinks later that night. Soaking wet and confused as he was, neither Marco nor Connie abandoned him.

"Marco, come on," Connie snorted, sipping his beer. "Tell me, really, how many Mikasa's have you met inside the walls?"

"I mean — " 

"Because I've met many Annie's, many Isabelle's, and many Wendy's," Connie interrupted. "But I've never met a Mikasa. You said she cried, right, Eren?"

He had responded with a simple nod, his gaze lost in the bottom of his mug, his eyes slowly burning and stinging with unshed tears.

"So, there you go," Connie deduced, shrugging proudly. "Why would she cry if she didn't know who you are? I don't know about you, guys, but I think this is the Mikasa Eren is looking for."

Marco wrinkled his face in distress.

"Do you really think it's her, Eren?" 

If only he knew...

Ten years held enough power to alter one's memories to the point imagination and reality coexisted to mess up with a broken man's mind. A smiling girl, short hair, dimples… how could that resemble the face of a woman who looked like a porcelain doll? How could he be such an idiot, such a fucking bastard that he couldn't recognize her after all those years they spent together? For ten years his eyes lived to merge with the crowds, desperately searching for a girl with short hair, a scar on her cheek... a sign, a simple sign that she was still there, somewhere, waiting for him. But luck never seemed to be on his side. Any woman had become Mikasa, any sudden shadow took the shape of her. He saw her everywhere, in the trees, in the clouds… in the storms she used to fear so much. 

Did she fear them still? Do those eyes of hers still sparkle when the leaves faint under the sweet breeze of autumn? Do her cheeks curve into perfect dimples every time she laughed? Was her hair still as dark and shiny? Eren wasn't embarrassed when a tear trickled down his cheek, cutting through his skin like a knife. 

"We know you looked for her, Eren, we know. And you will find her, I'm sure of it." Marco comforted, patting his shoulders gently and Eren truly, truly wanted to believe him.

With all his heart.

Because while Eren kept on living… no, existing… that was the right word, Eren hadn't known what it was to truly live for a long time. And as his smile widened and his lips ran over the skin of other women, as he held his girlfriend in his arms during freezing nights; while his outrageous laughter made Kuchel smile and Levi scoff in annoyance, as he existed and wandered with a soul that was bleeding and breaking and fading away... Eren was afraid, so afraid. He feared that one day she would appear walking by his side so casually in a crowd and that he would not even be aware of it. Who knows? He maybe he already did, maybe he saw her before and didn't even realize it. Eren still had a photograph of her, somewhat wrinkled and stained, the only thing he was able to retrieve from the orphanage. All three, together, as it always had been. Eren, holding a fishing rod with an arrogant smile planted on his face, proudly showing off the fish that he had managed to get out of the lake in the forest by their home, exhibiting it before the camera like the greatest trophy. Levi, glancing at the dead fish with a look of disgust on his face at how filthy it looked, a scene so messy as the memory itself.

And Mikasa.

Mikasa.

Beautiful, smiling, loaded with life as the birds that sang each morning by his window. Her eyebrows raised exaggeratedly, her smile showing a gap between her lips to humorously unravel the third baby tooth she had lost that same week. Eren looked at the photograph all the time… but he couldn't even remember what her face actually looked like. 

He left the shower with a dry, bitter sigh, but with a heart full of determination. His desire to travel to Rose was almost non-existing, but at least he could make a quick stop in Trost to visit Kuchel, for a whole month he was unable to find free time to see her and although they had chatted constantly on the phone, he knew that it was not quite the same. It would be strange to see her again after what happened the night before.

Eren decided that before marching over to Rose he would pay a quick visit Armin's teahouse. He said her name, he smiled at her... that meant that he knew her. He had to find out, he had to make sure it was her. He dressed up in his uniform and left his apartment to join Connie and Marco, both of them prepared to leave to Trost in the car they owned as a team, but Eren kept them waiting, taking the lead and driving by the streets of Shiganshina at full speed, awkwardly dodging the malicious dogs that got in his way.

Within the Survey Corps, Eren Jaeger was known by a very particular nickname: the suicidal bastard. Risky like no other, Eren was capable of committing the most outrageous things in order to fulfill his duty, and although that constantly got him into trouble, the results of his work always turned out to be satisfactory, Levi said that was the reason Erwin Smith hadn't sent him straight to hell after recruiting him. And Eren knew that the nickname applied to his driving too.

He was about to run over someone.

"Eren, dammit, slow down!" Connie yelled in fear, clutching his dear life to the leather seats, leaning back as if that might save him from a sudden crash. "You can go see Armin when we get back!"

"C-Connie is right!" Marco suggested, terrified. "Also, we'll be late!"

Eren ignored the plea of his friends with a dry laugh. Slow down? No shit. He clumsily parked in front of the teahouse and left his team waiting in the car when a woman in a blue kimono — though she didn't appear to be a geisha — greeted him with a warm smile. Desperate he asked for Armin Arlert, where was he, if he was still asleep, every tiny piece of information he could get only to receive in response a short "oh, Armin is not here at the moment, he will return in a few hours" that ruined his day completely.

There was no point at all. Eren had to be in Rose in less than an hour and Armin would be back a long time later. He would have to wait, and if there was one thing Eren Jaeger's restless spirit despised was to wait. For ten years he had waited, searched, simply to find nothing at all. He wasn't sure he could tolerate it any longer, to be able to control himself and acquire that will power he needed to keep his cool, to do things right. Fuck.

He went back to the car at a slow and reluctant pace and Marco knew he wouldn't be driving this time. The two exchanged seats and Eren rested his head poorly against the window, staring at the people go by and hoping that by some divine miracle he could see her there, walking. But that didn't happen, it never happened. The night before had been a mere coincidence, a miracle... would it happen again? 

His green eyes fell shut, wanting to disappear.

Remembering.

.  
.  
.

_Mikasa no longer knew what the hell else to do to stop this madness._

_"Leave him alone! It was my idea to climb the tree!"_

_"This is our tree, Jaeger! Only the tall kids can climb up here."_

_Eren had never considered himself to be a wimp, someone easy to beat up and manipulate. He had strength, or so he believed. He was skilled with his hands, having once made a small wooden horse out of oak logs, a gift that he amiably gave to Kuchel for her birthday. He had fixed the broken plumbing in the kitchen — on Kuchel's orders, actually, since he was the one who had broken it — and repaired the broken legs on Hannes' chair — also on Kuchel's demands. However, that afternoon his strength had been put to the test in all its glory and the results didn't look as great as he had imagined._

_But those two assholes, Reiner and Bertholdt, had superhuman strength. It was fucking insane, it couldn't even be normal. It wasn't Eren's fault those bastards had him cornered against a tree around the orphanage, kicking and punching him everywhere. Yes, maybe Eren was not the strongest boy of all, but if there was something that separated him from all the other kids in the orphanage was this: Eren wasn't a coward._

_"That's not true! Thomas is shorter than me and he can still come to the tree! I'm taller than him, and this tree doesn't belong to you. I'll kick your ass you assholes, you'll see!"_

_Reiner laughed._

_"I still don't see you doing it the first time. Will Kuchel have to save you again?"_

_"Eren princess! Eren princess!" Bertholdt crooned wickedly, delivering more kicks to his stomach._

_"It's the rules, princess," said Reiner, smiling with satisfaction. "Either you adapt, or we beat your ass."_

_Eren was pushed up against the tree one more time, but the boy didn't give up._

_"It's a shite rule!" the boy shouted. "And you're a little bitch who deserves more of the belt than he gets!"_

_This seemed to infuriate Reiner, because Eren gained a punch straight to his eye. Eren fell to the ground and Bertholdt took it upon himself to knock the breath out of his lungs with kicks to his chest._

_Mikasa shrieked sharply behind them, covering her mouth with her hands and clutching her rag doll to her chest. Carla, was her name._

_"No! Let him go! Eren!"_

_"You smell like Hannes when he's been at his medicine," Bertholdt mocked._

_In an act of pure desperation, Mikasa decided to risk her poor doll Carla to hold her tightly and impact her against Reiner's back over and over again. Even if he was ten times taller than her, the boy gasped in surprise, he turned around very annoyed but Mikasa lifted up her face, not at all intimidated. However, she held her doll tightly against her heart. At least she had managed to stop the fight._

_Besides, how dare they insult poor Hannes like that?_

_"Hannes says he feels loads better with his medicine!" her tiny voice squealed, ready to defend Hannes' honor and clearly annoyed at being ignored. "But Mama says it's not medicine. Says he's on the bottle. But Hannes says he feels loads better so it is medicine, dammit!"_

_"Ah, look, Berth, it's Misaki."_

_"Mikasa!" the child corrected, terribly offended._

_"Misaka?" Bertholdt asked, lips curving into a playful smile._

_She knew they only did it on purpose to annoy her, those assholes knew her name very well._

_"I think she sad Misaki."_

_"Whatever, what do you want, Makasi? Are you going to save your boyfriend again?"_

_Mikasa's cheeks went red._

_"M-Mama says I'm still too young to have a boyfriend! But Eren and I will get married and buy a house and we will never let you in! And I won't let you play with my dolls never! You're stupid!"_

_Bertholdt shuddered exaggeratedly, hiding behind Reiner who was laughing out loud._

_"I already told you, Reiner… she is obsessed with him. Stay away, it might be dangerous."_

_"Eren and I will get married!" Mikasa insisted, almost on the verge of tears. This was so unfair. "Eren promised me!"_

_Eren winced, trying to get up but only making it so far to just sit against the tree. He was wiping the blood from his nose._

_"We were just playing…" he added, somewhat embarrassed, trying to preserve his boyish reputation even in front of his enemies._

_They both laughed. "No one would ever want to marry you, you dumb bitch!"_

_Mikasa flushed violently, her hands twisting into fists. No. Oh no. She was about to spit it out, her tongue insisted on holding it in deep in her throat but there was no turning back. She knew her mother didn't want her to swear. "You are a girl," Kuchel said, "girls should not swear." But this situation was much bigger than what an eight-year-old girl could handle, and her brother's voice rattled inside her, remembering all the times when he fiercely insisted that she needed to learn to defend herself from the kids that bothered her. "Curse them," he'd said. "This is what you have to say."_

_And she did._

_"Your mother is so ugly and hairy that the only one who fucked her was the monkey titan and now you're the consequence, you cum guzzling thunder cunt!"_

_Then she threw the doll at his face._

_Yes. That was the consequence of having a brother like Levi Ackerman._

_Reiner froze, blinking repeatedly. What the hell? He definitely didn't expect an answer like that, much less coming from someone like Mikasa. Short, thin, as delicate as a summer bird, with her reddened cheeks and her eyes that now displayed terrifying guilt. Oh no. What had she done? She wouldn't see the light of day again if Mama knew what she'd just said. Even if she didn't know the meaning behind those words, Levi told her to say them whenever she was being bullied._

_Eren blurted out a shaky laugh, face wincing with the pain._

_But even a burst of bigger laughter overshadowed his._

_They all turned and out of the bushes Levi Ackerman appeared, thin and small, but with the grace of a saving angel. Or demon. He laughed madly and without stopping as he carried a huge shotgun in his hands. What the heck? A shotgun? Eren sat up, surprised, where the hell did he get that from?_

_Mikasa took advantage of her brother's intervention to hastily pick up her doll from the ground. She clung to it and stepped back._

_"You heard her," Levi said, very amused by the situation, holding that shotgun in his hands with the sole purpose of being intimidating. And he was. "I've never believed that bullshit about the titans, it's absurd, but looking at your face… I'm sure your mother fucked one because I can't conceive how a piece of dry shit like you exists in this world. Now get out of here or I'll shoot your ass, I have great aim."_

_Mikasa covered her mouth with her hands, surprised. Wow. That was a great insult. Eren burst out laughing. Levi was probably the rudest and most foul-mouthed kid Eren had ever met. Kuchel lived scolding him for it until one day she gave up. What was the point? That brat's tongue was uncontrollable, but her real concern was Mikasa. She couldn't allow her daughter to follow in her older brother's footsteps. Eren laughed again, because she was already doing it._

_Without another word, the duo of morons left with the same dignity of a stinky goose and Mikasa breathed calmly again._

_Levi glanced at Eren, somewhat disgusted._

_"You're good?"_

_Eren nodded, sitting up._

_"It's nothing." Mikasa ran to him and held his arm to help him get up, his nose was bleeding a lot._

_"You're such a baby. When will you learn to defend yourself?"_

_"Yeah, yeah, shut up." Eren wasn't in the mood for it. Instead, he allowed his childish curiosity to wash over him, staring at the shotgun in wonder. "Where did you get that?"_

_Levi smiled as he approached._

_"Hannes' room. And I think it's loaded."_

_Eren leaned in next to Levi, both inspecting the weapon. To Mikasa's bad luck — or rather, her short stature — it was impossible to get close and have a look. With their backs turned to her, Mikasa gave a little jump._

_"I wanna see!"_

_"You are a girl. Go play with your dolls or something, weapons are for men." Her brother answered._

_"I'll tell Mama you stole Hannes' shotgun! And you are not a man. Men aren't short."_

_Eren burst out laughing, pulling away from Levi and grimacing in pain. Laughing was not good after being hit in the stomach. Her brother looked at her very reluctantly, however, he didn't say anything else, Mikasa could be a gossipy little thing when she wanted and if Levi dared to say something in return, the brat would go to Mom's ears and throw him under the bus. Eren started walking back to the orphanage. Mikasa, as always, quickened her pace to walk beside him, wrapping her arm around his in a romantic gesture, leaving Levi slightly behind._

_He wouldn't have cared if they weren't both whispering nonsense in each other's ears as they walked, turning slightly to Levi, laughing. They were making fun of him._

_"If you don't shut your damn mouth I swear that—"_

_"Mikasa says you walk like a penguin," Eren said, laughing._

_"This fucking penguin will shoot your head off if you don't shut up."_

_Mikasa's childish giggles filled the field with colors, with life._

.  
.  
.  
Eren fell asleep in the car, the sound of ancient laughter lulling him like the song of a goddess. 

Cruel but beautiful.

**—o—**

Whenever Mikasa's eyes spectrally traversed her own reflection through a cold mirror, she had the vague impression that she was looking at a beautiful and terrifying porcelain doll. One of flesh and blood, with a heart beating and a chest rising and a skin that felt and ached. Perfect and terrifying at the same time. But she now she sees a sad dove and nothing more.

Dirty, her wings deeply wounded. She knows no other way to take flight, doesn't know how to escape. A bird locked inside a cage for an eternity that Mikasa finds more eternal than it should be, more endless than it is supposed to be. Her impeccable oshiroi makeup reflected how imperfect she felt inside that afternoon, the paleness of her powder perfectly covering that scar that for years she carried on her cheek, a scar she got when she was only a child. Somehow Mikasa was grateful that her makeup was powerful enough to hide the mark on her cheekbone, probably the only sign that she would make her recognizable in other people's eyes, and Mikasa didn't want to be found by anyone.

Not anymore.

The reflection of an always elegant Jean leaning against her bedroom door was what Mikasa saw in the mirror when she adjusted the flower at the top of her head, a perfectly crafted bun due to years of practice. She raised an eyebrow in amusement. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugged slowly, his lips curving into a crooked smile. 

"You look beautiful, that's all." 

Mikasa chuckled softly, turning to the mirror again to finish fixing her hair. Beautiful? Yeah, sure. The truth is that Mikasa couldn't even recognize herself anymore. She didn't look at all like the girl she used to be. Short hair, bright eyes. Now there was only a mask, a cold porcelain mask that would break as soon as Mikasa allowed her emotions to surround her, destroying a character that she had worked so hard to create. A desirable woman loved by all. A farse.

But Jean was her danna. It was his job to make her feel beautiful.

Mikasa recalled perfectly the first time he laid his eyes upon her, a simple maiko doing her training in a rusty teahouse, she'd been so young back then, much younger than she was now. It was expected for danna to outdo a geisha in age, after all a danna wasn't just a lover or a disgusting brothel customer. They were protectors, men who bought them as objects but treated them like a winter flower, so delicate and ethereal and perfect. When Jean appeared in her life Mikasa knew that he was not only her danna or a powerful man offering to finance each of her performances as well as her quality of life. Jean had been her savior.

Patient, always so patient with her even after all the shit she had gone through in her pathetic life. In Jean she found arms to cry, a selfish man who mercilessly abandoned his own wife just to spend a night with Mikasa, hugging her, whispering that everything would be fine, that he would not let anyone hurt her again, that he would always protect her. Jean was the first man to truly touch her, to feel her skin under his fingers in a way that was as intimate as it was terrifying. Mikasa remembered how much she had cried that night, how much her hands were shaking and how patient Jean had been with her broken body.

Her silk bed witnessed a second time, even at her own request, but also a last. After that night Mikasa constantly avoided any kind of intimacy between the two and little by little Jean caught the subtle hints.

It had only been out of spite, to prove herself that her body could mend itself again, that her scars could overcome any kind of damage, vanish away like ink on a page. But little did she know that true pain never subsisted in the skin; it was the heart the one who bore it all. Her body was healing, yet the scars inside of her were still bleeding each time a little more. Yes, Jean was her savior angel, but he was also her owner. 

He owned her.

The only one with the power and money to free her from the life she'd loathed for so long. For eight years Jean held the privilege of being her danna, eight years, and Mikasa was still here, locked inside a cage that Jean himself built for her. Unable to escape. And Jean knew it. And Mikasa also knew that he would never let her go. 

But maybe it was better this way. Jean was her comfort zone, a safe harbor, someone who would never betray her as everyone else did. Someone who did not force her to take risks and if staying locked inside that cage was the only solution to avoid another pain... Mikasa knew that she'd prefer to remain locked up forever. Her heart had suffered too many blows and she was not ready to face another one. The world was a cruel place but Mikasa possessed the strongest of shields. She turned away from the mirror and walked over to Jean with the grace of a ballerina.

"Ready to leave?"

Jean's eyes blazed mischievously. 

"We still have time. We'll go somewhere else first," he announced. 

Mikasa frowned, confused. 

"What about the meeting in Kobu?" 

Jean leaned over to brush away a rebellious curl that fell from the top of her hair. 

"Kobu can wait. I have a gift for you."

Without saying another word, Jean took her hand gently and they left the okiya in Shiganshina to head towards Rose. That day promised to be a busy one. Even if the cities within Rose weren't known as the richest and most luxurious — unlike Shiganshina who glowed in poverty — it was a truly safe place. The main base of the Survey Corps and home to Erwin Smith himself, the wings of freedom patrolled the streets day and night and although Jean lived within Sina, most meetings within its cities were carefully scheduled due to the war. Ever since Erwin Smith's rebellious son, Galliard, betrayed his alliance by murdering Rhodes Reiss, Uri started a war that for years the world knew would break out, it was only a matter of time. Sina supported the Reiss, Rose fought for freedom and Shiganshina struggled to stay out of it, a city too poor and small for her sisters to care about her.

Jean helped Mikasa into his luxurious car and his personal driver drove to their destination. During the entire trip, Jean refused to confess to Mikasa the very special gift he was discreetly showing off, increasing the geisha's curiosity. Even if Mikasa considered herself a patient girl, surprises weren't to her special liking, especially when Jean tried so hard to keep things as intriguing as possible. 

When they reached Rose and Mikasa noticed that they were entering the depths of the richest neighborhood in town, Mikasa knew that Jean's gift would be something very expensive. He had already done things like these, anyway. Amounts of precious jewels and diamonds fell on her dresser and although Mikasa couldn't wear them all the time due to the strict dress code in the teahouses, Jean gave them to her anyway; _so that when you see them you will remember me,_ he said. 

The car stopped and they both left the vehicle behind. As soon as Mikasa noticed the luxurious home that Jean stopped in front of with a bright smile, Mikasa confirmed her suspicions: Jean's gift was more expensive than she imagined. Tall, full of windows surrounded by black iron balconies, structures as beautiful as they were luxurious. 

"W-What is this?" She asked, even if he already knew the answer.

Jean held her hand and unlocked the front door with some keys that he carried in his pockets. As soon as they entered the apartment, Mikasa's gasp of surprise didn't unnoticed by Jean. It was a single, beautiful duplex apartment, large and spacious, bright and very expensive. With pastel-colored walls, floors of the most expensive wood and sliding doors as thin as silk. The living room lined with the finest furniture, a bedroom with a spacious bed covered by white fur, mirrors everywhere and a thousand orchids placed carefully in every corner. 

She wasn't expecting a gift like that at all.

Mikasa walked silently around the place for a few seconds before looking at Jean with uncertainty, he kept his hands hidden in his pockets. 

"Jean…"

"This is yours now," he announced, raising his hands in the air. "I bought it for you." 

She blinked repeatedly, confused. "B-But… the okiya…" 

Jean cut her off with a chuckle.

"Did you really think you would live inside that okiya forever, Mikasa?" He said, almost mockingly. He walked over to her and pushed back the unruly curl that was escaping from her bun. "You are the most famous geisha in the cities. You deserve so much more than that... shack you live in." 

"But what about Fried—"

"She doesn't know yet, she probably expects it but, to be honest, I don't care. Well, what do you think? Do you like the place?"

Right. It was time to say thank you.

Mikasa nodded, ditching the shock on her face and forcing a smile, laughing. Jean turned her slightly to wrap her arms around her torso, very delicately so as not to ruin her hairstyle. 

"It's... beautiful, all your gifts are, Jean."

"You can make the changes and arrangements you want. You will have to stay in the okiya for a while longer, but every time you attend an event in Rose you can stay here as many times as you want. Also, most of my meetings are here, it will be easier to bring you with me and know that you are safe. For the moment, take it as a luxury hotel that you own. Kiyomi will no longer organize your schedule, we will do it together from now on and you can take a few days off if you want. You've been working really hard."

It was beautiful. It was a truly beautiful gift for someone like her, much more than she could ask for or imagine she would receive from Jean. However, despite being happy to know that at least she would feel freer than before, she couldn't help but think that Jean's mercy was never entirely sincere. 

_I didn't take you out of the cage, I just bought you a bigger one._

Mikasa slid her hand back to caress Jean's cheek absently. Her gaze lost in the sky that shone on the other side of the window. A bird that wants to fly, however... Mikasa slowly turned around, holding her danna by his cheeks. 

"Thank you," she whispered softly. "Not only for this, for everything."

He held her hands and kissed them gently. 

"You will always be safe with me, Mikasa. I promise," he swore.

Even though her experiences with his promises were devastating, even though Jean would never agree to settle her debt with Kiyomi and free her from that hell... Mikasa believed him. 

She really did. 

**—o—**

As Eren walked through the busy streets of Rose, he finally managed to feel like he was home. 

He truly was, in a way. The place where he began his training, where he forged incredible bonds with those assholes he had the privilege to call his friends, the place that taught them that it was possible to start over even when part of your soul had been left behind. Within Rose the cities were safe even despite the war. But there was another reason why Rose was special to Eren. 

Kuchel. 

Upon reaching Trost, Eren asked his friends to go ahead to the barracks and that he would catch up with them in a few minutes. They both replied, complaining that his nonsense would get him into serious trouble, however Eren got what he wanted: the fucking car, forcing his friends to return to the barracks on foot as if they were criminals. Connie and Marco left and Eren drove to his destination. 

The tavern.

He stopped in front of the door in silence, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his coat and gazing inside the place through the windows. The room was almost empty except for the shrill sound of the small television anchored high on the wall and two men reading the newspaper in a corner. It didn't take him long to find her. She was cleaning the tables with fervor, picking up the drinks that past customers left behind, dressed in her brown apron and her long dark hair. The passing of the years didn't seem to affect her at all, she looked as young and radiant as ever. Eren opened the door to the tavern, a bell ringing high announcing his unexpected arrival and Kuchel turned around curious, ready to welcome new customers. 

Her eyes widened murmuring a sudden _oh_ , she almost dropped the tray. After a few seconds she reacted, recognizing him.

"Ah, shit!" She exclaimed, hurrying to put the tray on the table and squeal with excitement at the sight of the man that was like her own son. She ran towards him, still too surprised to see him in her tavern and Eren laughed at the scandal, the only two customers watching the scene in discomfort. But that was Kuchel. Clients could watch as much as they wanted, but she wouldn't act by the rules of appearances especially if she had Eren Jaeger in front of her eyes.

Her face tingling with a shit ton of emotions as if she didn't know if she should cry or laugh or get angry or what. Her porcelain skin, so similar to Mikasa, her large, deep eyes, and her hair, soft and dark as chocolate. She was an extraordinary woman in every way, with a strong temperament but a noble heart. So similar to _her._ Eren knew that nostalgia would surround him to his grave as long as he had her around.

She lunged forward to wrap both arms around his neck, locking him in an awkward motherly embrace. 

"Oh, Eren!" the woman squealed, tousling his hair as she used to do when he was little. "You weren't supposed to be back for a week, what the hell are you doing here!"

He pushed her away to take a look at her. Was she about to cry? He burst out laughing. 

"I thought you would be glad to see me, woman. I came all the way from Shiganshina and this is the welcome I—"

Eren gasped as Kuchel's small but powerful hand attacked his ear, pulling insistently. 

"Ah! S-Stop!" 

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" she complained, annoyed. "I would have prepared you something to eat. Look how skinny you are, they sure force you to starve in that stupid Survey Corps of yours, don't they? I should never have allowed you to join. Oh, wait, I almost forgot! Come, come, I have something for you!"

Her giddy words almost scared the customers away. Kuchel forgot about them and grabbed Eren's hand, guiding him to a door leading through the kitchen as he yelled a loud _"Petra, take care of the customers!"_ Kuchel's house was nice, very nice, the kind of house she'd have always wanted and that Levi and Eren promised to give her out of their jobs savings. The Survey Corps soldiers could afford to live well and both wished that Kuchel could live in peace, tending her tavern and with her garden full of bamboos, within a safe city and with the wings of freedom guaranteeing her protection.

Despite everything... Kuchel was happy. And that was all Eren needed to be happy as well. They left the tavern to enter the house, walked into the living room and Kuchel let go of his hand to rummage through some bags. She took out a beautiful brown coat, walking towards him and spreading it very excited. 

"I bought it for you. Because you are just like Levi, you never dress up and then get sick. If only you would listen to me. What do you think? Do you like it? Should I change it to a smaller size? I can—"

Eren took the coat and leaned down to plant a furious kiss on her cheek that made her squeal. He got rid of his own jacket to dress up with the new one, showing it off arrogantly. 

"You are the only woman I allow to buy clothes for me, you know my tastes well."

Kuchel nodded, smiling, proud of herself as she buttoned his coat meticulously. 

"And what are you doing here? Levi came over this morning but he didn't tell me you were coming."

Eren yawned, sitting on the couch and forcing Kuchel to take a seat next to him, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his chest. 

"Yeah, he doesn't know I'm here yet," he sighed, patting her arm warmly and looking at her with a pained expression. "I wanted to see you before going back to the barracks. I missed you today."

Kuchel looked up, concerned. She stroked his cheek. 

"Why? Did something happen?"

Eren thought of Mikasa and his stomach twisted in discomfort. Fuck. 

"I was just curious about what my girlfriend was doing. What did you do today?"

That made her blush. Kuchel hit him hard on the shoulder. 

"Stop talking like that and find yourself a wife in your new coat," she sighed, irritated. "When will you get married with your girl, the blonde with the pretty eyes? Every day that passes I get older, and neither you nor Levi want to make me a grandmother."

Snorting, Eren pulled away from the embrace, lazily resting his head back against the sofa.

"Get married?" he said, horrified. "I am a free spirit, I will never marry. And I have asked you to marry me countless times in the past but you refuse to accept my hand. We could be so happy, the age gap is not a problem for me." 

Eren loved many things in life. Annoying Kuchel was one of them.

"Stop talking nonsense. Although I haven't done much for you I have fed and raised you up to now, so give me the right to act like your Mother. And I'm tired of doing work alone in this tavern! Bring me a daughter-in-law."

He laughed. 

"Daughter in law? What about Petra?"

"The day Levi decides to ask that girl out, pigs will fall, believe me, pigs!" She exclaimed, getting up from the sofa to start cleaning stuff from here to there, as she always used to do. She could never be still. "I've already told him many times but he won't listen to me. The only thing he will accomplish with his indifference is to scare the poor girl away, and then who will help me with the tavern? You don't even know how to prepare rice. I have raised useless men."

But Eren didn't laugh. He was silent, thinking, trying to contain his impulses. Should he confess to her what happened? Should he risk Kuchel's happiness like that? But he couldn't just simply shut up, he couldn't pretend that nothing happened. Looking into her eyes was hard enough already and Eren had never kept anything from Kuchel for long. He didn't want it to be the first time. 

He sighed, trying to act like the man he was. 

"Kuchel."

"Mmmh?" 

"I think I saw Mikasa in Shiganshina." 

His words floated into a deathly silence that felt eternal. Kuchel froze in her place, holding in her hands a cardigan that she planned to fold against a chair, yet she did not go on with the task. Paralyzed as ice, Eren waited patiently for her response. A slap, a _"never say her name again!"_ or even a heartbroken whimper. But there was none of that. Slowly Kuchel walked over to the sofa, sitting next to him. Her gaze lost among the furniture in her beautiful home. Then she spoke. 

"Eren," she whispered, her voice laden with a love Eren still had a hard time understanding. "Why are you still trying to find her?"

He didn't expect such a question. It was the first time in ten years she repeated the question and Eren found himself falling deeper and deeper, realizing he hadn't asked himself that question ever in his life. Not even after everything that'd happened, all the streets he wandered and all the doors his hands slammed, trying to find her. And that was indeed the real question, the meaning of everything... why was he still looking for her?

Ten years should be enough time to end a human being's perseverance, but Eren was not a lazy piece of shit, and the constant failures of an exhausting searching had failed to stop him. Was he an idiot? Had he not matured enough to understand how things were now? It was as if he had fainted out in the past, unable to wake up and continue forward, instead he was just walking backward, stumbling over obstacles that prevented him from seeing the truth. He was blind. Levi never mentioned her, even when each February Kuchel religiously prepared her favorite meal, Knödel, for her birthday... even when the three of them sat down to eat her food in silence... nobody named her. It was like commemorating a ghost. A search without results caused in Kuchel a terrible abandonment, what was the point of looking for something that was impossible to find? _She may not even be alive,_ Kuchel once said. Eren still remembered how upset he was with her. How could she even say something like that? Mikasa was alive, she had to be...

… Her black eyes, her dimples, her easy smile… Eren refused to accept that all of that had died. No, she couldn't. Eren could not live without confirming his greatest fear, one that Kuchel managed to strongly believe over time. That was why he sought, even if the years were cruel and torturous… he couldn't give up… Mikasa was still alive somewhere, breathing the same air yet unable to share it and Eren had to worry about moving forward? He couldn't betray her like that. He refused to.

"I—"

"You are twenty-five. You're young, handsome, smart… you've got a great life ahead of you, my son." Eren's heart skipped a beat at the mention of _son._ Kuchel turned to see him, there were tears in her eyes. "Life goes on but you seem stuck in the same place all the time. Do you think I don't see it, Eren? When we walk around town your eyes always seem to wander in the crowd and I see the disappointment on your face when you notice that no one looks like her. It's like you're afraid of being distracted by looking at something else and finding out that she walked past you and you didn't even notice. That's not right, Eren."

"Y-Yeah, but—" 

"She won't come back," Kuchel said. Her voice finally cracking up. "You can't just keep on wishing for things to be different and forget about living, about now. And it's been ten years since you've stopped living, Eren… it's not fair. It's just not fair for you."

Eren swallowed, the lump in his throat causing his hands to shiver. The gleam in Kuchel's eyes was gone, now there was only sadness. A sadness that for years Eren tried to appease. But even if Kuchel claimed to be fine, happy… Eren knew she was not. 

"And what about you?" He asked, his brow slightly furrowed.

Kuchel sighed, laughing sadly. Eren reached out his hand to wipe a tear that slid cruelly down the cheek of that beautiful woman in front of him. She was so beautiful. 

"Me?" she replied, almost mockingly. Then she patted her chest repeatedly. "I have learned to live with this pain and I am fine with it. I'm living. You and Levi are the only thing I have now, I want you to be happy. So don't waste your life and marry Historia, start a family, have a dog… live, Eren. If you are happy then I will be too." 

Eren wanted to reply, not at all agreeing with her opinion, but Kuchel knew him too well, knew that this boy would not take no for an answer, so she sat up, wiping her tears and smiling as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation had never existed. She swallowed her pain deep into her chest, where it lay hidden after years, and smiled.

"Now go, I have customers to attend," she laughed, straightening her hair. "How about I stop by the barracks tonight and bring you some food, huh? Yes, yes, that's what I'll do, you need to eat, young man, look how thin you are. What do you want me to make for you?" 

Eren got up from the couch and picked up his jacket, draping it over his shoulder. 

"Knödel."

Kuchel's lips trembled slightly. Eren took advantage of her silence and tucked a rebellious curl behind her ear. He smiled tenderly at her, indicating with his deep green eyes that he would not give up so easily. 

"You crazy punk," she replied irritably. Eren smiled even more. 

"Do you want me to walk you to the store? I still have some time..."

Kuchel shoved him toward the exit somewhat roughly.

"Just go already! Just seeing you makes me feel sick," she replied once they left the tavern, Eren receiving a warm greeting from Petra, he had always liked that girl. Kuchel released him in front of his car. "Come on now, go."

"You sure don't want me to go with you?" 

"Don't you dare follow me!" she snapped. Eren tried to take her hand, but she slapped him warmly on the head. She turned around, ready to leave for the store, however, Eren continued.

"Hey, girlfriend!" He yelled. "Don't you dare cheat on me with someone else now that I'm not home!" 

Kuchel turned around, furious and flushed. What were the neighbors going to think? 

"Shhh, or I won't bring you dinner!" 

At that Eren could not reply, Kuchel's meals were something that not even the devil himself seemed willing to miss. After a tired sigh, Eren got into his car and drove toward the barracks. He looked at the time on his watch, making a face, it was almost five. The day had gone by faster than expected and he still didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Looking at the hour, he trusted that perhaps the meeting with Erwin had been delayed until late at night as it had happened previously, but the panorama took an eighty-degree turn when he arrived at the barracks and an impatient Marco was waiting for him at the door, walking from here to there.

His constipated face relaxed in relief as he saw him abandon the car and walk towards him, taking him by the shoulders. 

"We have a situation" 

Eren frowned. What did he mean by situation? 

"What happened?" He asked, not quite sure. 

Marco bit his lip fearfully. 

"Theo Magath was found dead in his house." 

Theo… Magath? 

Theo Magath.

_"She's pretty, isn't she, Theo?"_

_That man laughed, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip._

_"Very pretty."_

Eren wanted to throw up. Hee clenched his fists, breathing hard. From that day on Theo Magath found refuge in Sina, even if he already belonged to the Military Police, the Reiss kept him safe, those fucking bastards... but he was dead now. Dead. 

Good.

 _Very_ good.

But how?

"It was murder," Marco added. "Erwin just canceled the meeting, the press is outside the front door, and Erwin fears that the Military Police will blame it on us."

Of course, those assholes would look for an opportunity like this to attack the Corps. It wouldn't have been at all unreasonable to think that the same Military Police planned this whole scenario to rekindle the flames of the war. Damn. 

"Fuck, where's Levi?" Eren asked, looking around impatiently. 

"Eren," there was such uncertainty in Marco's voice that Eren was forced to look at him in surprise. "There's... something else."

"Hey, stop looking at me like that, if someone else died just—" 

"There were witnesses," Marco interrupted. "Ten. Mike was there so he brought them here to testify about the crime scene. They wanted you to handle the interrogation because you knew about Theo's case, but since you didn't make it to the barracks in time Connie and I had to take care of all nine. There's only one left and, well..."

Eren frowned. 

"Who is it?" 

His friend swallowed painfully. He took him by the shoulders, turning him slightly to the right and pointing to an exact spot on the street, near a black car and the back door of the barracks. Tall, dressed in red and breathing deep breaths of frozen air of a day that was slowly beginning to grow dark, her updo too unkept to look presentable, all alone. Alone. Eren's body froze completely, shaking, breathing heavily. 

It was Mikasa.

this was a beautiful fanart that dani (@/lolakasa) did for this story many  
years ago, shoutout to her amazing art, she's truly wonderful<3 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!
> 
> i'm so blown away by the great response the first chapter got, i wasn't expecting more than 10 kudos lmao but wow, honestly, thank you so much!! it means a lot to know you guys enjoyed enough to leave comments & be so kind *hugs the people*
> 
> anyway, talking a bit about this chapter;; i've always wanted to write Levi and Mikasa as siblings, when I posted this fic back in the day there weren't many stories that explored a sibling relationship between these two, so i only had my imagination to fulfill my cravings lmao, their story here is very sad and complicated, but really fun to write about. Having Kuchel as her fictional mother was the only option i had, i hope it doesn't look too odd. 
> 
> also! someone commented asking about Eren's looks in this fic, if he had long or short hair... right now he has short hair, there's an amazing fanart i'll link right here **[(X)](https://ar.pinterest.com/pin/545991154819040220/)** that completely captures the look Eren wears in this fic most of the time, sadly i don't know who the artist is but if you find them please let me know :') 
> 
> and! **[i made a playlist for the story (X)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ncBW8JTzLuSXD8cpvAj2U?si=jQBFPd7qQPS7N0uxvPcPlA)** , in case you wanna hear some music while reading the chapters. the songs are instrumentals from movies and stuff so it won't be too distracting, these are the songs i've listened while writing this fic and they make me cry like a baby *wipes tear* some of them are super angsty and others super hella romantic.
> 
> Eren and Mikasa's interactions will start next chapter and won't stop until the end, so i hope you stick around to read them! 
> 
> if you liked this chapter, please consider giving a kudo & a comment, they help writers more than you think!!
> 
> till next time! 
> 
> ((also, follow me on twitter **[@misswongs_](https://twitter.com/misswongs_)** i need friends and someone to scream about Eren's wonderful 10 pack))


	3. The Worst Thing I Ever Did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years ago, a tragedy that changed their lives forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to check out the playlist **["unable to stay, unwilling to leave"](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ncBW8JTzLuSXD8cpvAj2U?si=bR8zJRYHQqSXCoJC3VLLkA)** i made for the fic!!

* * *

**Scars Deeper Than Love**

* * *

_«I was a child and she was a child,  
_ _In this kingdom by the sea,  
_ _But we loved with a love that was more than love—  
_ _I and my Annabel Lee—  
_ _With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven  
_ _Coveted her and me»_

**_—edgar allan poe._ **

* * *

**Ten years ago.**

**—o—**

"So, can any of you tell me what a neurofabrio... nerofribio... neurofibriome..."

"Neurofribromatosis."

"Yeah, that thing. Can any of you tell me what that is?"

"Mr. Hannes, are you drunk again?"

"W-What? Of course not, what makes you think that?"

Mr. Hannes was, without a doubt, drunk in the middle of his classroom. 

_Again._

Mikasa hid a smile behind her red scarf, leaning against the back of her wooden chair and drifting her gaze away to the window beside her as the kids laughed and mocked poor Mr. Hannes, who was trying really hard to form complete coherent sentences in order to defend his shattered honor. 

It was a warm Wednesday.

Mikasa loved warm days. There was something special, something inexplicable in the way the sun illuminated the surroundings of the orphanage. Rays of light crystallized by gentle leaves, tree branches that danced in time with the wind like spirits from a fairy tale, rodents that left their dens to explore the forests, swim in the lake, collect fireflies at night... the warm days were quite an adventure for the thirteen-year-old girl. The vine-covered walls of the orphanage glowed an intense gold under the sun, and it was quite funny, because summer had not yet arrived and they were still wrapped in a cold autumn—Mikasa would never have cared, it was her favorite season—but in those unfortunate times, for Mikasa's bad luck, the sky roared with terrifying storms and yet—there were also days like this: warm and gentle and perfect for crashing your whole being into the leaves, the smell of dry earth and grass sticking to your skin like the most expensive perfume.

Her bright eyes scrutinized the scenery around her. Hannes' cheeks turned an intense shade of red as he argued with the kids, Eren being one of them, sitting at the back of the classroom with Bertholdt Hoover. 

"But we're at war!" Eren yelled, never knowing how to keep his mouth shut. "How can you be drunk when we're at war? The titans—"

At his side, Bertholdt let a frustrated groan slip out from his lips. 

"Ah, there he goes again."

"Shut up, cocksucker."

"Eren, language," Hannes' voice sounded tired and bored, like he actually gave a shit if Eren cursed or not. He was so done with that damn kid. 

"What if the titans come tomorrow? How are you gonna fight them if you—"

"The titans aren't real," a girl said quietly, too scared to confront Eren Jaeger himself. "They're just stories." 

"They're not!" 

"And how do you know that?"

Hannes sighed, giving up too easily to sit at the back of his desk, pulling out a hip flask from the drawer to have a long sip, too tired to deal with this shit so early in the afternoon. Eren wouldn't shut up, no matter what Hannes said. Mikasa observed from the distance, curling in her chair and biting her thumb, hearing the conversation with meek eyes.

"Even if they are real, Hannes is a soldier, he will protect us," another kid said.

Eren scoffed with arrogance.

"Ex-soldier," the boy pointed out. "He couldn't kill a titan even if he quit the bottle for ten years."

Mikasa eyed poor Hannes with shame. He looked defeated.

"I'm still here, kiddo, I can hear you," the man said, but no one listened to him.

"When the titans come," Eren explained, gaining everyone's exasperated sighs. "The Survey Corps will defend us, and once they do, we have to—"

"They are just stories!"

Mikasa bit her lower lip, feeling sorry for Eren's enthusiasm and lack of support from his classmates. Everybody knew Eren Jaeger and how crazy he was, how passionate he could be about the things he loved and cared about, even if they were nonsense, like that old tale about the titans and the reason the walls were built many years ago. At this point, nobody had the energy to argue with him anymore, but once in a while the topic would re-emerge again, making fourteen-year-old Eren too excited to be right.

The girl decided to intervene, her soft voice breaking through the noise.

"Well, maybe they are real," she suggested, shrugging. "We really don't know."

Eren's eyes grew in size, pointing at Mikasa with his finger and nodding furiously at her, clearly satisfied with having an ally.

"See?" he said. "Mikasa also thinks so."

Bertholdt rolled his eyes.

"It doesn't matter what she thinks. She'll say whatever you say," finally, his cold eyes landed on her. "You're obsessed with him."

Mikasa didn't even found the time to give a reply, even if she didn't quite know what she was going to say, too embarrassed to think of an answer—because Eren launched himself at Bertholdt and send a fist right into his eye, knocking him off the chair and creating chaos all around him. The kids screamed, some of them excited to witness another fight, others too frightened and calling out Mr. Hannes for help. The man intervened, cursing under his breath, separating the kids as best as he could while Mikasa covered her mouth, trying to approach Eren but being stopped by her friends, claiming that he deserved it.

The class ended up too soon and Eren gained yet another punishment. He stood with Hannes inside as everyone left and Mikasa stopped at the door, looking at him being scolded. Eren was furious, with a bruise under his eye and fists turning white at each side of his hips. Mikasa waited for his gaze to meet hers, but he never did. 

"Come on, Mikasa," Zofia whispered at her side, tugging at the sleeve of her shirt.

Mikasa followed, hesitation burning on her skin as they ventured to the outsides of the orphanage, reaching the pavilion with their pockets full of sweets and apple juice. It was their favorite place to hang out whenever they had free time, and their favorite time to gossip, too. Mikasa stood quietly with her friends, her eyes fixed on the main door waiting for Eren to appear, worried about his fourth punishment of the week. Eren was truly a good kid, he wasn't always impolite and cruel as everyone else thought. He was just... too much. Eren was too much. Too much anger, too much love, too much kindness and too much bravery. Eren gave all of himself to people, over and over again, and not everybody had the mental strength to deal with that turmoil of emotions he carried on his back, a load too big for someone so small. 

It was simply too much.

"I suppose it is a bit cruel," Zofia said, eating an apple, "the way they always work him up like that. But it's his own fault. If he learned to keep his cool, they'd leave him alone."

They were talking all at once, about how Eren needed to grow up from that _titan bullshit_ and stop being a child, about what kind of punishment Mr. Hannes would give him this time, all of Mikasa's friends kept on swapping reasons why Eren deserved everything he got but her eyes kept on staring anxiously at the door, waiting for him to appear. And he did. 

Mikasa blinked at the sound of the door being shouted too loudly, and her little heart squeezed tightly. Even before hearing the door, Mikasa knew that it was him. You see, Eren was a strange child. He could be extremely noiseless when he wanted, going behind everyone's backs to sneak into places he shouldn't be, but he was also full of hidden peculiarities, details that only could be spotted if you were smart enough to see, and Mikasa knew them all very well. For example: shouting doors too loudly. Eren wasn't gentle about it, he would slam every damn door with no shame at all as if he was trying to make himself heard; show the world that he existed, that he was there. _I'm here, I exist, look at me._

His expression was exactly what Mikasa was expecting: brows deeply frowned, frantic pants that matched his hurried steps, fists ready to attack and eyes burning with a passion only Mikasa understood. They all watched him stop in the middle of the field, keeping his head low. Zofia laughed quietly.

"Oh, no. It's coming," she said, the girls laughing. "Hold it. Seven seconds. Seven, six, five..."

She never got there. Eren burst into thunderous bellowing. He began to scream and shout, a nonsensical jumble of swear words and insults as his arms lifted in the air, like trying to beat the shit out of an invisible being. The girls laughed again, all of them too used to witness Eren's tantrums, he would do that quite a lot when he was angry. He would stand in a place for long minutes before breaking, letting his anger overflow from the inside out, drowning everything and everyone around him. Despite the comical side of it, Mikasa never found it funny. She often wondered if there was a hidden reason behind that, if shouting doors too loudly and screaming into the void like a madman was somehow some sort of call out for help. Maybe he wanted to be seen, to be heard. Maybe, whenever he was screaming like that, deep inside he was hoping someone would stop him, hold him, put his feet back on the ground. 

And she was more than willing. Mikasa was more than willing, and she was so desperate for Eren to see that.

With a sigh, she left the group to walk towards Eren, Zofia's urgent whisper telling her to come back, but she didn't listen. Eren had stopped his tantrum once Mikasa came closer to him, his body facing the other way. He was panting, hands shaking, and Mikasa could almost swear he was crying. She reached forward to put a hand on his arm. Afterward, the girls thought he'd meant to do it, but Mikasa was pretty sure it was unintentional. His arms were still flat about, and Eren had no idea Mikasa was going to touch him. He threw up his arms in response, knocking her hand aside and hitting the side of her cheek. 

Mikasa gasped, a sharp pain slicing the skin of her face, she heard the girls gasp behind her. Eren turned around, shock transforming his features and filling his eyes with regret. Mikasa held her cheek, too surprised to say anything, and Eren blinked repeatedly as if realizing what he just did. 

His lips parted, shivering.

"M-Mikasa — "

"Eren!" Hannes' voice terrified him. Mikasa looked up, the man approaching very fast from the entrance. He had seen it. "Kiddo, what in the world..."

"I don't — I d-didn't mean — "

"Come on, Mikasa, I'll take you to the infirmary," Hannes held her by the shoulders and dragged her away from Eren and her friends, leaving the kid behind.

Mikasa could feel the blood slipping through the cut, it wasn't that bad, and she was sure he didn't mean to do that on purpose, she supposed he wasn't used to being disrupted during one of his rages. The nurse held her cheek up in the air, her eyes scrutinizing the wound, saying it was nothing but it would probably leave a faint scar on her cheekbone. 

With a bandaid and a lollipop in her hand, Mikasa left the infirmary begging Hannes not to punish Eren, promising him that it had only been an accident, that she shouldn't have come up to him like that without saying a word. Hannes nodded, too tired to even deal with it, and sent her to her room to study. Her bed welcomed her body when it crashed against the mattress, with a sigh, she reached to her nightstand to grab her portable tape deck, hitting the play button, the cassette Eren had given her years ago filling the room with a song she knew by heart, a song Eren liked to sing under his breath whenever he was doing something.

_If I ever were to lose you..._

Mikasa's eyes fell shut.

_I'd surely lose myself..._

Her fingertips run over the place Eren's hand left a mark.

_Everything I found dear, I've not found by myself..._

Her eyebrows wrinkled in frustration, hoping all of this wouldn't get him into trouble. It hadn't been the first time, despite being a _lady,_ as her mother used to say, that they scarred their bodies like that. Eren and Mikasa used to play pretty rough with one another, climbing up trees and pushing their bodies to the ground, he'd left countless bruises on her skin from their rough adventures together and she'd done the same to him. 

It wouldn't be a problem if she said they were just playing rough again, right? Mikasa knew her Mama wouldn't make a big deal about it, she loved Eren as if it was her own son. 

A knock on the door disrupted her thoughts, it opened slightly and a sad Eren peeked from the side, unsure to come inside.

"Miki?"

She sat up, staring at the way he gained the courage to step in, closing the door behind him. 

"Hello."

Eren scratched his head as he came closer, taking a seat on the bed. Despite living in an orphanage, Mikasa had the privilege of having her own room, unlike the rest of the kids. Her bed was big and Eren's body made itself comfortable on the mattress as it had done many times in the past, hidden under the covers and reading horror stories on nights when Mikasa was too afraid of the rain. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, eyeing the bandaid on her cheekbone. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean — "

Mikasa smirked softly, nodding, trying to reassure him.

"It's okay."

"I thought you were Bertholdt, I would never — "

"Eren," she repeated, calmly. "It's okay. It was an accident."

"I'm sorry," he said one more time. He lifted his hand, reaching out to touch the bandaid. Mikasa hoped he wouldn't hear her heartbeat reverberating through every wall in the room. "Does it hurt?"

Mikasa blinked softly, a little dizzy, and shook her head. Eren sighed, nodding, and let his back crash on the bed. Mikasa imitated him, their shoulders touching in a silence that filled every possible nook and cranny of her heart. As the years went by, Mikasa had learned to share his silences, the way he would stare at some point in particular for what seemed like hours and know what he was thinking. Mikasa always knew what he was thinking. Titans, adoption, food, fighting. 

But there was a new thought occupying his mind, a thought she couldn't quite distinguish. And it often appeared when he had his eyes on her, like right now. Mikasa looked back, feeling her lungs slowly losing all trace of air. His lips blurted out a soft sigh, eyes going back to the ceiling, and she saw him sing the lyrics to himself as the song played in the background. _When floods they came or tides they raised,_ Eren's lips moved, _ever closer became us, all the promises at sundown, I've meant them like the rest._

Eren scoffed.

"You sure like that song, don't you? You play it all the time."

Mikasa smiled, nodding.

"It reminds me of you."

She saw the way the smile left his face, the way his lips parted to catch a glimpse of air and feel like it wasn't enough. It probably never will. He looked at her, studying her face, eyes on her cheekbone. Mikasa swallowed, unsure of what to say, she sat up on the bed and Eren followed her motions.

"I, um... I was going to go study by the tree. Wanna come?" she asked. "We have a lot of homework."

Eren grimaced, not too happy with the idea, but nodded with a defeated sigh. Mikasa smiled, pleased, and went to grab the bag with her books, both leaving the room behind and running towards the entrance. 

"Hold on you two!" the voice of Mama made Mikasa stop, her silhouette coming down the stairs with the grace that only a woman like her could possess. Her long black hair moving as she walked, her blue dress floating with each step she took, her mother was truly a gorgeous woman. Sometimes, Mikasa wondered how she did it, run an orphanage all by herself in the middle of a never-ending war, taking in the kids who'd lost their homes and their families, offering them a chance to start anew. Maybe it was her heart, so full and infinite as the ocean, so still and calm like a summer breeze. Hannes helped her most of the times, but Kuchel was the true pillar of this place. The center of it all. Through poverty and war, Kuchel always made sure to let the light in. 

Mikasa offered a smile, Eren muttering a _fuck_ under his breath. 

Kuchel stopped in front of them, her eyes quickly finding Eren's and the bruise he carried there. She sighed, holding his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"Hannes told me you punched Bertholdt. Again. What was it this time?" she asked, and although Mikasa feared he might get into trouble, her Mama's free hand ran through his wild locks of hair, pushing them away. 

Eren, never ashamed of his actions, held her gaze with bravery.

"He was being a jerk to Mikasa."

Kuchel's face softened at his words. Her eyes went to Mikasa, standing quietly behind him. She released his cheek and brushed his hair, fixing its mess.

"And you?" Mama asked. "What happened to your cheek?"

Oh. That meant Hannes didn't tell her about it.

"Papercut," she simply replied. 

Her Mama didn't look very convinced, but gave up easily, resting both hands on her hips. 

"Alright. Where are you two going?"

"To study," Eren replied, not very pleased with the idea.

"Under the tree," followed Mikasa, nodding vigorously.

Mama sighed.

"Okay. But don't take too long, there's a storm coming tonight," she watched the kids nod and leave the main door, running down the stairs. "And don't run!"

The autumn breeze ruffled Mikasa's hair as her nose picked up on the smell in the air, grey clouds began to gather in the sky and Mikasa realized Mama was right, a storm was approaching. The green lands that surrounded their home welcomed them into the wild as they ventured through the hills, Eren jumping from rock to rock, defying gravity with his great sense of adventure, while Mikasa picked up flowers from the ground, saving them in the pockets of her green dress. After a while of endless walking, Eren offered to carry her piggyback, claiming over and over again that she wasn't as heavy as she thought. He held her bag and Mikasa jumped on his back, enveloping his neck with her arms and smelling the earthy scent of his hair, leaves and grass and wood and everything Mikasa loved about their home. Eren carried all of it.

They reached the tree after Eren decided to run like a maniac, making her scream and almost drop all of her books. They landed safely, taking place under the tree and enjoying what was left of the day. However, Eren wasn't collaborating that much.

For the boy, doing homework was a complete pain in the ass, especially when he had to write a lot. His hands had the bad nature of sweating too much and his pencil would slip out of his fingers all the time, he had to constantly blow the palm of his hands to avoid getting them sticky. Yet still, here they were. Alone. Mikasa reading her biology book and Eren lying on the grass, one hand behind his head and the other reading a Sign Language book that wasn't even part of his homework. The rest of the books were scattered around them, untouched. 

"Says here _dick_ is a 'd' handshape tapping the nose," he mimicked the picture on one of the pages. "Oh, look. If you want to say _fuck you_ , you can just give the person your middle finger. Interesting."

Mikasa sighed, writing in her journal.

"Eren."

"Waving an open hand on the side of the chin, forward and back, means _slut_ ," he giggled, having too much fun.

"Eren," Mikasa repeated, annoyed. "That's not studying."

He scoffed, throwing the book around and resting both hands under his head, staring at the sky with complete disinterest. 

"Whatever."

Wild like only Eren could be, he let his eyes fall shut lazily. Mikasa took a glance at him and continued reading the texts Hannes had given her. She was a good student unlike Levi who liked to finish everything too quickly. Mikasa took her time, a perfectionist, writing with the calligraphy worthy of a queen, enjoying the tranquility of nature and the aroma of dry leaves and pine that traveled through the wind. Over the years the rebellious attitude that characterized her since she was little had changed, the rudeness dismissed as did her desire to chase Levi and Eren all around, trying to be part of a manly duo. She no longer ruined her dresses trying to climb muddy trees. Now, she brushed her hair every morning, and played with makeup and dolls, spending more and more time with her friends. And one of them had gossiped something very unusual to her that morning, a gossip that she carried fluttering inside of her like butterflies in the summer. 

_Eren likes you._

Mikasa had blushed then, her heart almost breaking out from her chest.

_It's true! I heard him talking to Roth in the library. He said you're pretty._

Pretty.

Mikasa had spent the remaining hours sitting in front of her mother's vanity, brushing her short hair and looking at her face through the mirror's reflection. Did Eren really think she was pretty? Years ago, probably when she was eight, she would have screamed with excitement at such revelation, she would have searched desperately for him to stamp her lips on his in an innocent kiss that would have made Kuchel go insane. 

But things had changed. Mikasa had grown up, she was no longer a little girl. She didn't chase Eren around by anchoring herself to his arm claiming ownership as a jealous wife. She no longer proclaimed to the rooftops that Eren would become her husband in the future, nor did she play house with him: Eren the father, Mikasa the mother, Levi the pet. She even felt ashamed of her attitude, when her innocence prevented her from blushing at something that now bothered her senses. Being around Eren was not like it used to be, it was no longer a game.

However, she still had his red scarf, the one he had given her that afternoon when they got lost in the woods, and it was going to rain, and she was cold. "Here, wear my scarf," he'd said.

And now she carried it around everywhere, a symbol of her undying love for him. A platonic love that had started as a simple game and nothing more, but that now had taken on an overwhelming seriousness. It was crazy. They had known each other since they were babies, from a very young age, his father had left him at the orphanage's door even before Mikasa could remember him, when he was only five years old. Kuchel's kindness embraced him, welcoming him into her home. Mikasa knew that even though she loved all the children in that place, Eren was very special to her, more than the rest, at the same level as her own children. To Levi little Eren was his brother, his family, but Mikasa had never seen him that way. Eren was not only her home, he was also the boy she was irrevocably in love with. She had realized by the exaggerated way her heart throbbed when he took a seat next to her, his body so close to her that she could swear to feel her heart pound so hard it made her deaf. Taking his hand was no longer so easy, her fingers trembled every time. 

And now he thought she was pretty.

Pretty.

Mikasa smiled, flattered and covered under the warmth of her red scarf. For an instant, she stopped reading, too distracted by her romantic thoughts when she felt a light kick on her leg. She was startled, looking up to find an amused Eren trying to hold back his giggling, his face half-hidden in his arm. Mikasa kicked back playfully, trying to appease her blush and Eren laughed louder this time, then Mikasa went back to her work and for several minutes she couldn't focus at all.

She could feel the piercing gaze of the boy right on her face.

For a moment, everything felt like some sort of dream, as if time suddenly decided to stop for a minute. The warm colors of the sun breaking through the leaves, the stillness of the scene, the sound of the birds singing for her, his green eyes contemplating her features absently. It was a scene that over the years Mikasa had never quite managed to forget, like a photograph on a wall, frozen in time. Mikasa's fingers clenched tightly against the ends of her book, breathing slowly as her eyes pretended to read the sentences embodied in the pages, trying to completely hide her nervousness. Eren was watching her, she knew it, she knew it, why was he doing it? Should she look up too? Should she continue to pretend that she was focused on her homework? What should she do? It was a tough decision for a thirteen-year-old girl to make. In other times, in different years, she'd be happy at being looked at that way. 

But now she just felt nervous.

Gaining courage, her eyes lifted, small strands of her bangs infiltrating through her eyelashes, making her blink. He met her gaze almost instantly, but this time Eren wasn't smiling, he was deadly serious, as serene as the cold wind that stirred the branches above them. Mikasa loosened her grip and her eyes were lost in a valley of emeralds, holding her breath. 

Living inside a large orphanage just outside the walls had given her the chance to meet a lot of people: new children, children she had grown up with, children who had already left... teachers who fell asleep during classes, some too overwhelmed by the effects of alcohol. Mikasa's short existence had crossed paths with so many different kinds of people but she knew, above anything else, that no one had eyes like Eren's. 

Maybe it was the color, a green as vivid as his heartbeat, little specks of blue, gold and turquoise intermingling like paint on a canvas, like a constellation of stars accumulated together, she could even spot some blue in them. Maybe it was his eyelashes, dark and abundant like the forest that surrounded their home, maybe it was his prominent eyebrows that intensified his gaze every time he looked at her, maybe it was that spark, that vibrant light that shone like a fire ready to spark... maybe it was just Eren. 

Just Eren.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she muttered her answer with trembling lips, hypnotized by everything he was, standing so raw before her. 

Eren blinked a few times, then he shrugged lazily. He yawned, stretching his arms slowly as he whispered an unmistakable _for nothing._ He closed his eyes again, feigning a nap that he wasn't really taking. Then it was Mikasa's turn to admire him, momentarily forgetting her work. The slow cadence of his breathing, his freckles, all scattered around his nose like splashes of paint. He had them everywhere, too small to notice them but the perspective of the sun on his face made them beam and Mikasa knew she could spend a lifetime counting them one by one; she can do it with her eyes closed because staring at him isn't even necessary to know the shape of him by heart. 

She could see him so clearly.

His somewhat crooked teeth made his smile even brighter. His tousled hair that fluttered in all directions, his tan skin that contrasted with hers, so pale and cold, Eren was like the very representation of summer, of autumn, pomegranates, the scent of freshly cut pine and ice cream, of all the things Mikasa loved in life.

His hands, long thin fingers that despite having a reckless and impulsive nature also carried the delicacy to make art, to fix things that were broken. He loved taking pieces of wood and carving them to build unique figures, his lips and brows wrinkled in concentration and if you interrupted him he could be truly terrifying. 

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.

Mikasa smiled again and returned to reading, her fingers sliding the smooth pages of her book when two large silhouettes interrupted her concentration, they were approaching from the distance and Mikasa recognized the shape of them. It was Bertholdt and Reiner. Mikasa sighed, irritated and at her reaction, Eren opened his eyes, curious. 

"What's wrong?"

She didn't reply, she glanced towards the orphanage and Eren sat up, turning around, following the direction of her eyes. Of course, Bertholdt and Reiner were walking towards them to get into another fight, that was the only thing those bastards knew how to do near Eren. To top it off, Levi wasn't around to set the necessary boundaries, the duo of morons only appeared when her brother wasn't around. Cowards. 

"Eren," Mikasa warned at the look on his face. "Don't fight."

Reiner smiled at the sight of them, coming to a stop. He was so tall and big for a fourteen-year-old.

"Spending some charity time with your girlfriend again?" He mocked, Bertholdt resting his elbow on his shoulder.

For a few seconds Mikasa avoided looking at them, she pretended to concentrate on her reading, her mother used to say that ignoring someone was the best way to avoid conflicts, after all, it was useless to argue. _They just want attention,_ she said. _Ignore them and they'll get bored._ But Mikasa just couldn't ignore the situation when Eren interfered with a comment that was extremely, _extremely_ distracting.

"And what if she was?"

Mikasa froze. She slowly looked up, her hands firmly gripping her book as she watched Eren defying his enemies from below, still sitting beside her, keeping his cool. This was far too unusual coming from Eren, on another occasion he would have tried to smash these assholes to pieces, his fists traveling around him left and right. Yet now he looked so… calm.

"Huh?"

Reiner didn't seem to understand Eren's challenge. He frowned, annoyed that he didn't understand. Bertholdt also looked confused. With a sigh, Eren got up from the ground looking taller than ever, almost as tall as Reiner, and Mikasa knew that this was not a good sign. She closed her book, sitting up as well and lightly holding Eren's arm to prevent him from doing something crazy.

"E-Eren..."

But he kept going, ignoring her.

"I said," he repeated. "What if Mikasa was my girlfriend? Would that bother you?" Eren laughed, nodding sarcastically. "Of course it would. You like Mikasa too."

T-Too?

Mikasa was going to faint. Oh, she was _so_ about to faint. 

Eren didn't even give Reiner a chance to reply, the boy continued as if nothing happened.

"Mikasa would never, ever like you back. I think she would rather spend a whole day inside the stables with Smelly Pitt before having to stare at your ugly fucking face. When you were eight and you found that snake in the attic? Remember that? You started screaming like a girl and Hannes had to come up to rescue you because you climbed on a chair and you didn't wanna go down, you fucking coward. Mikasa hates cowards. You hate pomegranates and that is Mikasa's favorite fruit. Plus, you don't even know how to say her name right, you accentuate the a's and s's too much and dammit, it's like you've swallowed a whole rotten potato. Besides, Mikasa doesn't like you. Right, Mikasa?"

That's when things took a different turn. As calm as the wind, Eren turned his face to see Mikasa and watched her expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. Did she have to? Reiner looked as stiff as a rock.

"Well?" his voice sounded impatient, irritated by her silence. "Would you date this cocksucker?"

"H-Hey!" Bertholdt intervened, ready to defend his best friend.

Mikasa froze. Was he really asking her something like that? She looked at Bertholdt, at Reiner, her cheeks flushed as two cherries, and then at Eren. His intense eyes studied her face impatiently, tapping his foot against the ground and constantly changing his body posture. He frowned.

"Hello? Are you deaf?" His finger tapped the side of her head, trying to make her react. "You're not gonna answer? Or do you really like this stinky motherf—"

Mikasa blinked, coming to her senses. She pulled Eren's hand away quickly.

"O-Of course not!" the reply came in a hurry, Reiner's resigned sigh mingling with her voice. "I..."

Eren's irritated expression changed immediately. In his eyes there was only space for arrogance, smiling triumphantly.

"See? You don't have a chance. Besides," Eren took Mikasa's hand a little too roughly, pulling her towards him, "she prefers me. Right, Mikasa?"

Then she felt it, there, right in the depths of her tummy. A flicker of uncontrollable wingbeats spreading through every corner of her being, preventing her breathing, preventing her brain from reacting properly. Her body froze and the only thing she could feel was Eren's hand clinging to hers, his fingers narrowing against hers surreptitiously, little by little. Even if Eren expected an answer from her, Mikasa knew he didn't need to hear anything. He already knew.

She watched him expectantly, her nervousness camouflaged from her behind her red scarf and Eren didn't try to make her speak. He started walking back to the orphanage, his hand firmly holding hers as Mikasa's feet stumbled to keep up with his pace. They hadn't even picked up the books, they remained there among the leaves and grass and the unstoppable throbs of her heart. Reiner and Bertholdt didn't seem interested in following after them and silence was the only thing that surrounded them during their journey, the sky clouding little by little just like her Mama had foreseen. However, Eren's hand didn't let her go.

She didn't let go of him either. 

Upon arriving at the orphanage, Eren said goodbye to her as if all of that didn't happen. He stretched out like a kitty, yawning, muttering that he was hungry and left her there to go to the kitchen. Mikasa stood in her place, trying to process all that'd happened minutes before.

_She prefers me._

_Me._

With an exasperated sigh, Mikasa rested her head against the entrance door, closing her eyes, avoiding a wide smile at what was probably one of the best days of her life. Was it a statement? Did he...? She laughed in amusement, and by the time she made her way to her room the night had already fallen, a torrential storm coming in leaps and bounds. She skipped dinner, her stomach was satisfied enough with countless butterflies and she was afraid that by eating something they would abandon her, Mikasa did not want them to go, she wanted them to stay there forever.

Between her walk through the lonely corridors, Mikasa saw her Mama and one of the maids sitting in the living room hearing the radio with great concern. The voice of Erwin Smith piercing through the walls because, apparently, his son had killed Rhodes Reiss. Kuchel gasped, a hand on her forehead. Mikasa's brows wrinkled in confusion, was that a bad thing?

Hannes appeared in front of her with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, his cheeks flushed with a kind smile. Inside the orphanage everyone loved old Hannes. He not only was Kuchel's companion and eternal friend, that man was also truly multifunctional. Teacher, repairer of broken objects by mischievous children, plumber, electrician and full-time foster father. 

"Ahh, Miki," he mumbled, laughing. "Your cheeks are red. Been around Eren too much?"

Mikasa grimaced, annoyed.

"Your cheeks look red too. Been with the bottle too much?"

Hannes huffed, already realizing he'd lost and entered the room Kuchel was in, freeing Mikasa to leave. She ran to her room and closed the door, throwing herself to the bed with a stupid smile on her face, staring at the ceiling as if it was a galaxy.

"He said I'm pretty," she whispered to herself, caressing the scarf around her neck. "Pretty."

Her eyes fell shut, laughing like the child she was. Did Eren know how she felt? Did Eren feel the same way too? Submerged in childish fantasies where Eren was the protagonist, Mikasa fell asleep holding her red scarf, completely unaware of the tragedy that would occur hours later. 

A tragedy that would change their lives forever. 

**—o—**

A thunder woke her up.

Mikasa sat up on her bed, panting, her heart beating wildly at the sound still reverberating in the sky. In the end, her Mama was right, the storm had already begun and the darkness inside Mikasa's room was overwhelming. Tense as a rock, Mikasa leaned over the nightstand to check the time. The clock read 2:00 AM. She sighed, uneasy, when another clash of thunder startled her, shrieking as her hands desperately covered her ears in an attempt to muffle the sounds of heaven. No, she was definitely not going to stay here, in the dark, alone.

The young girl left the comfort of her bed to search under her pillow for Carla, her most beloved doll. Somehow, she knew it was absurd, thirteen-year-old girls weren't supposed to play with dolls, but Carla was more than just a toy for Mikasa. She'd been a gift from Levi and always made her company through nights like these. Levi used to say that when Carla was left alone inside a room with no one there to watch her, the doll came back to life, ready to go to the bathroom and _take a shit_. For many years Mikasa believed that nonsense, closing the door to her room and rapidly peeking through the lock, eager to find out if her doll truly came back to life as her brother had said. But Carla always stayed in the same place where Mikasa left her, her innocence playing tricks with her mind. "Wow! She must be very fast." 

Nevertheless, Carla continued to be there for her on rainy nights, it was some sort of ritual. Every time the rain poured down, Carla was her charm to withstand the storms.

Luckily for her, Carla was not the only charm Mikasa had. 

Hugging the doll with all her heart, Mikasa left the room with her shoulders hunched and covering her ears, bare feet trailing silently through cold corridors, lightning momentarily illuminating the place with ghostly flashes, the tree branches dancing like monsters in the shadows, reflecting themselves on the walls in all kinds of creepy shapes. But Mikasa knew the path by heart, it wasn't even necessary to keep her eyes open to know where she was going. 

When the door stood right in front of her, Mikasa didn't think about knocking. She stepped inside, making sure to leave a gap on the door to allow some light inside. Eren's snoring could be heard everywhere as he slept on top of his bunk bed with his legs and arms hanging off the air. Thomas slept underneath, well settled and covered by his blankets. But it wasn't Eren the one Mikasa wanted to see. 

She stopped in front of his bed, right by the window. Her eyes stared at him in the dark, impatient.

"Levi."

She knew the bastard wasn't sleeping.

His answer was immediate, however, he kept his eyes shut.

"What do you want."

"It's raining a lot."

"And?"

Mikasa bit her lower lip, body shivering with despair, her bare feet rattling against the wooden flooring. Levi looked as calm as ever, his hands resting at the back of his head as if he was stargazing. A clap of thunder roared in the sky, making the door and windows tremble, and Mikasa couldn't help it. She blurted out a shaky squeal and tried to shove Levi aside to get into bed with him. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he opened his eyes, features contorting in disgust, trying to push her away.

"Let me sleep with you."

"No way. You'll pee in my bed."

Mikasa stared at him, furious, keeping Carla close to her chest.

"I don't pee in bed!"

"Ah, well, if I remember correctly you did yesterday."

"That's not true! I dropped a glass of water when I was drinking!"

"Yeah, sure, that's what everyone says."

Mikasa gasped, furious and scared. The thunders weren't stopping and Mikasa still hadn't made it into the bed. She bit her lip, fearful, and tried to get inside one more time, but Levi pushed her away again.

"Stop! You're not a child anymore."

"Levi, please!" Mikasa begged, almost on the verge of tears. "I promise I won't pee!"

"You can't promise that, you can pee in your sleep."

"Levi!"

When Mikasa heard his exasperated sigh, she knew she'd won. Annoyed, he pushed the covers aside to make a space for her next to him and Mikasa hurried to get inside as if that simple act would save her entire life. Levi wrapped her body with the covers and sighed again. Being a big brother could be a real shit sometimes and every stormy night the story repeated itself again, but even though Levi pretended annoyance at first, Mikasa always ended up sleeping next to him. She snuggled closer, between his wrist and his arm, body tensing every time lightning was heard in the skies. 

"You're freezing," his voice complained.

"Sorry," she apologized, too focused on covering her ears so the thunders wouldn't bother her.

Levi took his sister's hands, rubbing them a few times, infusing some warmth. She took advantage of his nice gesture to move closer to him, resting her cheek against his shoulder and for an instant there was no fear. Not even a little. Eren's snorting helped make the scene less disturbing and Levi's arms around her were much more comforting than her own mother's. It was strange, but Mikasa preferred to run to Levi in situations of danger. Where her mother was loving and emotional, Levi was rude and calm, and it made her laugh. He made her laugh so much, forgetting her natural enemies roaring up in the sky. Levi was her personal eagle, an animal that could overfly the storms, dominate them, reaching places other birds wouldn't dare to cross.

Levi made her feel safe.

Mikasa's body stiffened at the sound of another thunder, feeling Levi's hand mingling with her wild hair, twirling it between his fingers. He didn't use to do that often. 

"You know," he said, his male voice muffling the sound of the storm. "Lightning isn't really lightning."

Mikasa frowned, confused. 

"What do you mean?"

"There's no such thing as electricity colliding in the sky. Do you know what thunders really are?"

Mikasa looked up at him, life itself under his absolute control as if he owned it. She shook her head, forgetting the storm for a brief moment. 

After a few seconds, he answered.

"They're farts," said casually. "The gods know that too much trouble between them could provoke the apocalypse, so they start farting. It is the only way they have to argue. Their fat, divine asses pointing at each other, and each time they fart, the sky produces thunder. Right now they seem to be a little too upset, I think."

His comment was so bizarre and stupid that Mikasa had to move away from him a bit to look at his face. She frowned, extremely confused. Farts? How could Levi speak of the Gods like that? Mama would have killed him if she'd just heard what he said. But... the real question here was... were they really farting? Or worse yet, could the gods… do that?

Levi looked at her, she looked at him, and a second later Mikasa's laughter was uncontrollable. Really, she wanted to stop, wanted to stay quiet so she wouldn't wake up Eren and Thomas but she just couldn't keep quiet. Her hands covered her mouth while her head fell back against the pillow, her tiny body shaking and shuddering and Levi had to suppress a smile too, he had achieved his objective: to take away his sister's fears. Her giggling didn't stop, she laughed even more when another thunder came in, perhaps imagining ugly asses giving off giant farts, the descriptions of Levi coming alive in her innocent mind. And there was no more tension, no fear, no tremors. Just laughter, eyes that he loved and her dimples and her cheeks and everything that was too Mikasa.

Levi fucking loved this kid. It was nuts. 

"Stop laughing, you idiot, now you're gonna pee."

Mikasa kicked him in the leg, laughing. She knew that her brother was just joking, he pulled her by her hair and after some rough exchanges of kicking and pulling, they both fell silent again, slumber little by little forcing Mikasa to close her eyelids. She hugged Carla, covered herself more with her blankets and rested her cheek on her brother's shoulder, sighing. 

"Goodnight, Levi."

She felt his hand caressing her hair.

"Just sleep already."

Mikasa's lips smiled, the thunders—or farts—echoing like a lullaby.

**—o—**

A deafening noise woke her up. 

It did not resemble the squeak of a door, the clatter of broken plates, or even thunders. By the time Mikasa opened her eyes, it wasn't even raining anymore, only faint drops slid through the window glass, her brother sleeping peacefully next to her. Mikasa turned around, drowsy, Eren was not in his bed and the covers were pulled to the side, maybe he'd been the source of that noise, he probably left to go over to the bathroom and—

Boom.

The same noise again.

Mikasa gasped, body twitching with fear. They were gunshots, she could recognize them perfectly. But these were different from the sound that Hannes' shotgun made whenever he took them to a hunt in the forest. This was a constant firing, over and over, like machine guns. Like the kind of weapons soldiers used in the movies Eren loved so much. Mikasa turned to Levi and stroked his shoulder insistently, trying to wake him up.

"Levi."

He groaned.

"What."

"I've heard gun—Ah!"

Mikasa's body jolted again, the gunshots were heard again but this time much closer. Levi reacted immediately, getting up from the bed and peeking near the window. What the hell was happening out there? Mikasa clung to her doll, her hands shaking furiously. Were they thieves? They didn't use to cross these lands. 

"L-Levi, what's going — "

Her words got stuck in her throat as they both heard the bell rang, great and imposing, echoing against every corner of the orphanage. The bell lay in the highest tower of the building and was only ringed by a guard when there was trouble. Mikasa had never heard the bell ring, but Hannes told them that many years ago, before they were even born, they had trouble with a group of bandits who stole food supplies from the storehouse, and the bell served as an alert to evacuate all the children.

Thomas woke up immediately and the terror on Mikasa's face was unspeakable. 

"Shit," Levi muttered, backing away from the window quickly, tripping over his feet.

"Levi? What's going on?" Thomas asked.

"The Military Police is out there," he said, alarmed. Mikasa had never seen Levi look so scared, and the expression on his face rapidly engulfed her. If he was scared, there was no way she wouldn't be too. Levi grabbed his jacket. "We have to go get Hannes."

Mikasa stared at him in horror.

"W-What? No, Levi!"

Her brother approached her and took her by the shoulders, the fire in his eyes scaring her.

"Stay here, did you hear me? Don't leave this room until I'm back. Do you understand, Mikasa?"

"B-But — "

"Stay here!" He yelled, yanking Thomas by the arm and dragging him out of the room.

Mikasa froze, running to the window to grab Carla, bending down to peek. She heard more gunshots and saw several soldiers carrying trucks and guns while the sound of the bell continued to ring over, and over again. She heard people screaming, the words "It's an attack! Bring reinforcements!" that made her shiver like a pig. What the hell was happening? Mikasa turned away from the window and snuggled into her brother's bed, then she noticed Eren wasn't there either. Oh no. Where was he? She gasped, scared, when a loud crash made her scream, an impact that dragged her out of bed.

It was a bomb.

It had to be.

It hadn't hit the room but she was sure it had destroyed part of the building. Mikasa screamed, covering her ears. That noise was even worse than lightning, and the absurd story of her brother wasn't working anymore. She heard the sound of broken debris and the screams of the children and the maids and it was all too much for her, too much. She sat up, about to cry, holding her doll and leaving the room to run through the corridors, looking for someone, anyone. Everything was destroyed, there was dust everywhere and she collided with several children. 

"D-Do you know where my Mama is?" she asked multiple times, but no one answered, everyone was too busy trying to find a place to hide. Mikasa sobbed, stumbling with her feet. "Mama! Mama!"

Another bomb.

Mikasa screamed when she saw Zofia get hit by a giant rock, the debris squashing her to the ground in a puddle of blood. Several soldiers from the Military Police crossed her path, shouting and firing left and right, yelling "for the Reiss!" over and over.

So that's what this was all about. Mikasa ducked, sneaking through the rubble and searching for a familiar face. There was no sign of Levi or Hannes or her Mama, and that began to worry her. What if... what if they...? No, no. Mikasa didn't know how long she kept running here and there, all the rooms were empty, torn to pieces. The place she'd grown up in... destroyed. The kitchen was on fire and she could see countless flags stuck to the floor, fluttering in time with the wind and the flames. It was the flag of the Reiss family.

Finally, Mikasa managed to leave the orphanage and go outside, the main entrance a mess of shattered debris and dead bodies. Why? Why would the Reiss attack a place like this? What harm had they done? Mikasa bumped into one of the maids, her lips asking for help, but the woman ran away without even looking at her until one of the soldiers shot her in the back. 

Fuck.

Mikasa quickly turned around, terrified, her doll Carla sprawled on the ground, broken and dirty with blood. That was the last time Mikasa saw her doll again. She tried to pick her up, the only thing she could hang on to until Eren's silhouette appeared in the distance, calling out for Kuchel's name. Mikasa looked up and saw him in the middle of the crowd, his green eyes roaming around, trying to find an escape route. 

"Eren!" Mikasa cried out desperately, her voice cracking in the middle.

He turned, disoriented, then saw her. Mikasa remembered perfectly the moment Eren's lips parted to answer her, her feet ready to run towards him when two soldiers from the Military Police grabbed him by the arms, dragging his body with them. Mikasa gasped.

"Eren!" the sound of her voice screaming for his name was terrifying. 

She started to run, dropping the doll behind her.

His eyes stared at her desperately, trying to shake off the soldier's grasp but his eyes never left hers. He looked furious.

"Go away!" his voice screamed. "Run and find Levi! Go!"

But Mikasa didn't stop, neither did her crying. Her legs raced towards him, her doll being cruelly abandoned as Mikasa screamed his name over and over again. Eren. Eren. Eren. They were taking him away, they were going to kill him just like they did with the rest, just like they killed Zofia. One of them hit Eren over the head with his revolver and Eren fell unconscious into his arms, but Mikasa never stopped running. She gasped, and cried, and ran with all her strength but it was too late for her. She couldn't even finish screaming at his name when someone else, Mikasa didn't know who, hit her hard on the back. Her body crashed onto the hard ground.

And everything went dark.

**—o—**

It was cold.

Mikasa didn't know if it was due to a forgotten rain, the wind that howled or if the ground she was lying on was too chilly, but she felt so cold. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking, then everything came to her too suddenly. Levi, the sound of the gunshots, bombs, the Military Police, Eren...

Eren.

Mikasa gasped, trying to wake up from the numbness in her body. Her eyes recognized the place she was in. They were still in the orphanage, in the stables, however there was not a single horse inside, they had probably been stolen. She sat up, sitting on the floor, feeling something grabbing her hands. Until now, she hadn't realized they were behind her back with two ropes firmly anchored around her wrists. When she turned to glance at them, she heard his voice. 

"M-Mikasa."

Paralyzed, the girl followed the sound until she found Eren's eyes, red and swollen. He was there, sitting on the floor just like her with his hands tied on the back, both soaking wet from the drizzle and the tears that wouldn't stop coming down. They held each other's gaze for a moment, as if both couldn't believe they were here, together, when the initial plan was to save each other. Eren blinked, reacting, and slowly began to crawl towards her. The image was heartbreaking. With his hands tied and his clothes loaded with blood and mud, Eren made the effort to push his legs against the soil and move closer to her. 

Mikasa sobbed, following suit, crawling just as hard until they were both shoulder to shoulder, together. Tied like animals, yes, beaten and sore, but together. Mikasa thought it'd always be like this. Shivering from the cold, he looked at her, crying eyes filled with anger, and annoyance, and pain. So much pain.

"What the hell..." he stuttered, panting, "are you doing in here."

Mikasa's voice shivered under her breath, tears soaking the bandaid on her cheek.

"I... I was trying to s-save you..."

Eren sobbed angrily, lowering his head in resignation. What was the point? He knew Mikasa would do something like that, he wasn't stupid. He knew the kind of girl she was, someone who would follow him to the end of the world, but Eren didn't expect the end of the world to be as screwed up as this was. This wasn't right. He lifted his face, she watched him, both hearing someone's whistle.

The guy wouldn't stop whistling, over and over again, he was sitting on a chair just at the entrance of the barn, his back turned, eating beans from a can. Eren and Mikasa froze, her body shivering, his heart trying to stay strong, trying to survive. The guy was a soldier too, he wore a big cowboy hat and a revolver anchored to his waist, he was the man who'd hit Eren before. Trying to be as silent as possible, Eren knew he had to do something, he couldn't let them hurt them, he couldn't let Mikasa get hurt because of him. Fuck. Why did she have to follow him? Why? 

Eren stared at her face, moving closer to her. Both shedding tears, both trying to be strong, because that philosophy belonged solely to him. If you don't fight, you die. If you fight, you will survive. In a world as cruel as it was beautiful, it was impossible to achieve victory without fighting first. And Eren was up for anything.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her flushed cheeks and teary eyes, the hidden dimples and her short hair, her pink pajamas and her little feet, shivering against the ground. Eren knew that it had rained that night, he knew that Mikasa hated storms. He knew how scared she was at that moment. He knew.

And he would protect her from all of it. Over and over again, even if it meant to die.

"Let's go home, yeah?" he said.

It wasn't a question. It was an affirmation, a promise that Eren would make sure to keep at all costs. Whatever the cost. She cried, her face wrinkled in weak pants as he nodded, trying to smile slowly, reassuring her with his eyes that everything would be alright, that he would take her home, that he would keep her safe. Mikasa was strong, she was the strongest girl he'd ever met. They could do this. 

"L-Lets go home," was her answer.

Eren nodded, smiling weakly at her, somehow trying not only to instill strength into her but also to himself. Willing to keep his promise, Eren looked around, trying to make up a plan. The place was empty except for that one guy who didn't seem to move away from the door, maybe he still thought they were both passed out, Eren still tried to make as little noise as possible. His breath hitched when, right behind his back, he spotted a broken wine bottle, its pieces scattered everywhere, some of them large enough to be used as a knife and cut the rope around their wrists. Mikasa seemed to understand what he was thinking, looking at the bottle and then at him. Eren nodded, slowly leaning back, being extremely careful not to make noises.

With some struggle, his hands managed to clumsily catch a piece of glass and he returned to his current position next to Mikasa. Eren held the glass between his slippery fingers and tried to trace the edge against the robe over and over again, but it was impossible, the glass was slipping out from his hands.

"Eren."

Desperate, Eren held the piece with much more force, feeling its shape sinking into his palm and cutting the skin in the process, little by little his hand began to drench itself with his blood and the piercing pain was unbearable. Mikasa sobbed, staring at the blood staining the ground.

"E-Eren, stop, you're hurting yourself. Let me do it..."

Eren groaned, desperate and furious and shaking his head repeatedly, furiously tracing the glass against the rope and slicing more skin in the process. He gasped, cursing over his breath, heat taking over his body at the nervousness of being discovered and the desperation and the pain and fuck, it was too much, too much, too much. Time went by and things stayed exactly the same and Mikasa cried and Eren felt completely useless. A useless piece of shit. He said he would take her home, fuck, he promised himself he would, so why couldn't he?! Why the fuck couldn't he cut this piece of shit?!

Eren stopped his work when he heard voices. The second guy came to the door, talking to the man in the hat and they both turned their faces to the stable, finding their eyes. Eren shivered, Mikasa sobbed, there was no going back. Both men entered the barn, Eren slowly dropped the bloody piece of glass and moved even closer to Mikasa. He searched for her hands and found them, their fingers intertwined through blood and pain, making the grip slippery but neither of them let go. Not even for a second.

Never.

Eren wanted to burst out crying at the feeling of Mikasa's hands furiously shaking between his. No, no, no...

The guy in the hat approached them, the next one followed him lazily, carrying a rifle in his hand. 

"The guards have already called in reinforcements," Eren threatened angrily, not knowing what else to do. "The Survey Corps will be here soon and will fuck you all up, assholes!"

"Eren," Mikasa tried to shut him up, scared.

The man with the hat laughed out loud.

"Well, well. The kid's probably right, those jerks will be here anytime soon, so we better have a little fun before they come, don't you think, Theo?"

Have fun? What did they mean?

The man named Theo sighed.

"Whatever. Watcha wanna do?"

Kenny took off his hat, getting dangerously close to Mikasa. He looked down at her, the guy's gaze making Eren flinch.

"This one's pretty, isn't she?"

Theo shrugged.

"Very pretty, but I'll leave it to you if that's what you want. I'm too drunk for this shit tonight, Kenny."

"If you say so."

It all happened too fast and for an instant Eren just wanted to die. Something as simple as that. Kenny reached down and grabbed Mikasa by the legs, pulling her towards him. She screamed, and the only thing that came out of her mouth was his name. Eren.

Eren, Eren, Eren.

And he couldn't do anything.

Anything at all.

"Mikasa!" he yelled desperately, her hand still clinging to his tightly, slowly slipping away due to the blood.

Fuck.

"Eren! No!"

"Don't let go of me, Mikasa!" At that moment, Eren didn't care about crying, about letting his guard down and show weakness in front of his enemies. Didn't care in the slightest, the tears ran down his cheeks and all he did was scream. "Don't let go of me! Don't let—"

But his hands couldn't hold on much longer. Kenny pulled her away from him and slapped her cheek, and Eren screamed even harder, a long list of profanities that had nothing to envy to the sort of insults Levi was known for. Kenny held Mikasa's hair and dragged her out of the barn, far enough so that Eren couldn't see.

"Stay still, you piece of — "

"Let me go!"

Theo walked over to Eren and covered his mouth with duct tape, preventing him from screaming but Eren didn't stop doing it, especially when Theo left him there alone and met up with Kenny. And that was simply too much, too much for him.

"Fuck, do you need any help?"

Everything went to hell after that.

He heard things, hideous things that made Eren shiver and grunt and cry and scream. He screamed, and yelled, and cursed, the tape wasn't strong enough to keep his voice down, nothing was. Mikasa, Mikasa, Mikasa, he repeated her name until his lungs started to burn and his hand found the piece of glass again. He began to desperately trace it against the ropes and each time he cut himself more, and each time Mikasa's voice was sharper and please, stop, stop... was all Eren could think of.

However, at no point did she speak his name. She never called for him again and Eren knew, above all else, that he was a complete piece of shit and that Mikasa was the bravest person who had ever stepped on the face of the earth. And he loved her, in that horrible moment Eren loved her more than anything, hating every piece of himself. He hated himself with his entire soul.

The bell in the orphanage rang again and he heard screams when Mikasa's voice ceased. Eren didn't know how long it was, how much time he spent trying to cut through the rope, but it felt like an eternity. A fucking eternity. 

"Fuck, it's the Survey Corps," Eren heard Theo say.

And Eren believed him. Those pigs abandoned the place, gathering their stuff to leave, then Eren was finally able to cut the rope. Finally.

Finally.

He rapidly got rid of the ropes around his ankles and furiously removed the tape from his mouth, his skin burning at the pain as he scrambled to his feet and ran towards the entrance, but Mikasa was not at the door. Panicking, he looked for her, he scanned the darkness of the night with his eyes, in the distance the orphanage burning with flames. Dammit, dammit...

Eren found her silhouette minutes after lying in the distance, thrown behind some bushes, she wasn't moving. Sobbing, Eren ran back to the orphanage. He had to go to the Survey Corps, ask for help, surely they had brought doctors or anything at all, he would let them know that Mikasa was injured and they would save her and bring her home as he promised, he had promised it. Her body was beaten and he couldn't just carry her, the Military Police would see them and shoot them like they shot Thomas, like he saw them shot Reiner and Bertholdt. 

Eren ran as fast as he could, oblivious to the eyes that observed him leave. All this time, even all these years, he'd been oblivious to the fact that Mikasa was awake, barely conscious, but awake, that her heart throbbed furiously at the sight of him coming alive out of the barn and sank deeply when he just looked at her and ran away, far away from her.

He ran.

"E-Eren..." her voice muttered the words, but she couldn't hear them. 

He didn't hear her. 

He ran.

Eren ran, dodging soldiers that stood in his way and the fire and the dead children and the horror of that terrible massacre, he ran with all his might because Mikasa was waiting for him, he had promised it. He promised.

He found Levi in the crowd, standing next to a cart of wounded people, shivering with a panic Eren had never seen in his eyes before. His face twisted at the sight of him running, bloodied and beaten.

"E-Eren — "

"Are you okay?!"

Levi shuddered, offering a weak nod, but his finger pointed at the wagon. Kuchel was lying down, injured, her leg was a mess and she was unconscious. Fuck.

"M-Mom... I... I-I couldn't — "

Eren grabbed him by the shoulders, desperate.

"Do you know where the Survey Corps are?! I have to go, tell me where they are!"

Levi's body didn't move, only his eyes did, and Eren followed them almost to the other side of the orphanage. Eren left him without an explanation and ran with all the strength he had left, his body sore and burning yet nothing else mattered except finding help for Mikasa.

Mikasa, Mikasa, Mikasa. It was the only thing Eren could think of.

Then he saw him. Tall and majestic, Erwin Smith abandoning his truck with his companions, Erwin Smith himself recklessly entering the battle as the leader he was. Eren ran towards him, crying out, and crashed in his arms when the man held him in surprise.

"Help, I need help! Mikasa, those assholes from the Military Police, they — "

Erwin pulled him away to his partner, Mike, the one who always came up in the news, and raised his hand to the sky, speaking to the soldiers around him.

"Evacuate all survivors and prepare them to march towards Wall Rose! The rest, eliminate the rest of the Police!" He ordered with a loud cry.

No, no, Mikasa...

"Come on, boy, we have to leave before they come again," Mike said, grabbing him by the shoulders to force him into the evacuee's trucks.

"No, no, we must go for Mikasa!" Eren yelled. "We have to go for her!"

"Son, I promise we'll go get your friend in a minute, but first we have to — "

Eren pushed him.

"No! You don't understand, I promised! I promised her I'd bring her home!"

There wasn't much to do after that. Mike got Eren into the truck along with the rest of the children and they left to Rose, Eren cried all the way, his anger piercing through, making him scream and beat the doors, Mike's voice promising him his soldiers were already on the way to save her. But time passed and passed and when several soldiers arrived at the stable where Eren had indicated his friend was, they found absolutely nothing. Neither behind the bushes nor inside the barn, there was no trace of a girl with short hair and a red scarf. 

Because she wasn't there. The girl was being dragged through a crowd towards a wooden wagon that looked a lot like a cell, a prison from which she'd never escape.

"Look," said the man that found her. "Fuck, poor thing."

"She's an Asian, let's take her to Miss Kiyomi. She was looking for new girls."

"How much you think she'll give us for her?"

"A fortune, believe me. The kid is oriental, lady Kiyomi is obsessed with them. Come on, help me carry her."

The journey was too painful. Not only because of her injuries, but because hours had passed, or so Mikasa believed, and Eren hadn't returned. He didn't come back. She waited, eyes searching but there was no trace of the child she so desperately was trying to save.

Had... had he left her?

No. It couldn't be. Eren would never do something like that, he couldn't, no...

But maybe there was a bigger pain than that. A stronger one. A pain that to this day bled inside Mikasa like the first time. The crowd was still trying to escape when those men led her to the cell door, then Mikasa saw him.

Her brother, her protector, her everything... standing in front of a cart with a blanched expression. The dryness inside Mikasa melted as she began to cry, she didn't even have the voice to scream, she never knew how she got it back, but she did. Mikasa screamed with all of her might.

"L-Levi..."

He didn't hear her.

"L-LEVI!"

His eyes landed on hers, her own held the gaze... and nothing happened. The boy froze, his sister covered in blood, her clothes torn apart, two men holding her by the arms trying to get her inside a cart. It was too much for him, so much that he was paralyzed. His entire body stopped working, even despite the screaming of his sister.

_Enough. Please. Stop, stop..._

Levi raised his face when he realized it'd started to rain again, drops pouring out and thunders roaring but why couldn't he hear anything at all? Levi stood in the rain and the mud and tears while his little sister was locked inside a wooden cell on a horse wagon. The girl cried for him, clutching her little hands to the bars, looking at no one but her brother and yelling all sorts of things that Levi could hear but at the same time they felt as silent as the rain soaking him wet, intermingled tears with a constant "no, please! Don't let them take me away! Levi!" and "Levi, Levi! I promise I won't pee in your bed again! Levi, help me! Levi!" and his name. His name, over and over again under a shower of constant tears and he just wished it would stop. 

_Help me,_ she said. That's all her lips muttered. Just a hollow and insignificant _help me._

And he did nothing.

_Stop... everyone... stop... please..._

Mikasa yelled for what seemed like hours, all the words that came to her mind, she screamed and screamed but nothing worked. His brother stood as still as a rock, pale as a ghost, hands fisted at his sides... and nothing happened. Nobody did anything. The carriage started and Mikasa fell deeper into despair, her cries growing in size as the silhouette of her brother got lost in the rain, in the mist of her clouded eyes.

Why...

When the shape of the carriage was almost gone, Levi cried, and his body finally moved, and he ran but it was too late. Too late. _You bastard, you damn fucking coward..._

The Survey Corps managed to save a few children that night, Levi included. They were transferred to Rose and his mother received the care she needed to recover from the wound in her leg. Within the evacuations in Rose, Levi found Eren, he told him what happened with Mikasa and when it came to confessing the truth to Kuchel it turned into a true nightmare. Between constant weeping and death wishes, Kuchel begged Eren no to leave her, to stay with them, and Eren promised her that he would find Mikasa no matter the cost, even if it was the last thing he did. Levi lived the rest of his days with too great of a burden, knowing that he was a coward, the worst older brother in history, that Mikasa screamed for him and that he did nothing. He didn't even feel worthy of looking at his own mother in the eyes, her daughter had been taken away from her because of him. Days later they found out Hannes died in combat, trying to save Kuchel.

But despite everything, even though her brother did absolutely nothing and Eren abandoned her... Mikasa waited. Every day inside the okiya she looked out the window, waiting for a boy with green eyes to knock on the door and take her far, far away from there. To their home. As he'd promised.

But he never did.

"He abandoned you, why can't you understand that?" Kiyoma said once, furious.

All Mikasa did was cry.

"Shut up, shut up!" the girl covered her ears at the sound of a lie that, unfortunately for her, turned out to be true.

"You're absurd, you stupid child. They hurt you and he did nothing, he left because he was ashamed of you. And your brother? He didn't even care that two men locked you in a cage to bring you here, your mother wasn't very interested to find you, either. It's been six months, Mikasa, your family doesn't care about you, they've never cared about you and it's time you understand that. Now stop whining and get back to work."

Kiyomi's words were harsh, too harsh, but Mikasa accepted them. The world was cruel, and people were too. Her wounds closed the day she took off that damn scarf and buried it deep inside in her drawer. She stopped staring at the window like a fool, waiting for someone who simply didn't want to come. The okiya was her new home now and it was the people inside that place to whom she owed loyalty. 

Since that day, the old Mikasa Ackerman died.

Since that day, Eren and Levi were dead to her too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my god isn't this chapter long I'M SORRY
> 
> i can't believe we reached 100 kudos in two chapters *sobs uncontrollably* thank you so much!!
> 
> it was hard to write this one, it wasn't even supposed to be //this// long but i ended up adding more scenes and just made things a little more complex compared to the first draft. I was also a bit nervous to put it out because, as you might have noticed, this chapter contains some crude topics regarding Mikasa's character, but as a writer, i have the strong conviction that one should stay true to their craft despite what others might say, and i needed to write that, it is important to the story and the plot would not be the same without it. I'm proud of how it turned out because i wasn't descriptive at all and i tried to narrate everything through Eren's eyes. 
> 
> so yeah, i hope you guys can understand that! 
> 
> this chapter explains both sides of the story & it's *coughs* heavily inspired by one of my favorite books, never let me go *coughs* — thank you again for the support, i'm truly blown away, please don't forget to keep commenting and kudoing(?) is that a word? lol, it truly helps writers out there :')
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/misswongs_)!
> 
> see you soon!


	4. Even If You Kill Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Mikasa finally see each other face to face.

* * *

**Scars Deeper Than Love**

* * *

_«What do I do to make you want me?_   
_What have I got to do to be heard?_   
_What do I say when it's all over?_   
_And sorry seems to be the hardest word?»_

_**—elton john.** _

* * *

Connie's impertinent voice whispered his name over and over. Eren, Eren, Eren. But he couldn't hear him. Plunged into some kind of trance, in a malevolent spell that drowned his senses in the depths of the ocean, Eren kept his eyes fixed on the woman standing across the street, alone, crimson red. Her white makeup looked intact even though the mascara and lipstick were scattered all over her skin, her once neatly updo now a mess at the top, body shivering, staring at the townsfolk with wrinkled eyebrows, soft lips exhaling a chilling mist that the wind carried far away from her. 

Nothing happens the same way twice.

It was something Erwin had said to him many years ago, repeating it constantly whenever he had the opportunity. Eren used to make fun of his motivational phrases but slowly he began to understand their meaning. He had spent the majority of the day thinking about Mikasa — if he would ever see her again. Eren even went out to Armin's teahouse looking for a trace of her, a sign that her soul hadn't vanished into the thin air without a clue of where to go. His eyes remained expectant among the crowd even when he came back with nothing, waiting for a divine miracle to happen. And there it was. The miracle.

There she was.

An unexpected encounter that brought them back together again, ten years later. And so, Eren knew. He knew that the story wasn't done yet, he knew that there was still so much to tell, he couldn't tell if the outcome would be hopeful or as tragic as their past had been but Eren was willing to sacrifice his entire life just to give that story a happy ending. He'd do it right this time, he wasn't going to screw it up all over again. He would do this right.

Eren would do things right.

This was his last chance.

"Eren," Connie said again, fearful eyes hoping for the worst—a mental breakdown or a fist slamming into a wall or all the things Eren was known for when he lost his composture. 

"How long has she been here?" Eren asked without taking his eyes off of her.

Connie scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, almost an hour."

Eren nodded, detaching himself from the fear and the pain and the anxiousness, legs moving forward but Connie stopped him by the arm, unexpectedly. "Hey, wait. Will you be the one to interrogate her?" he asked, not quite sure.

For years Connie and Marco had witnessed the effect Mikasa had on him, even if they'd never seen her before. The mere mention of her name was enough to make him go insane, to make him lose his senses and whatever was left of his sanity. Mikasa Ackerman was a nuisance to his mind, a ghost that prevented him from thinking straight and making coherent decisions. For a short instant, Connie feared, yet Eren didn't seem to be frightened at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

There was a fire in his gaze.

"Of course I'll interrogate her."

Without saying another word, Eren began to walk his way to Mikasa while Connie followed him in hurried, clumsy steps. Eren opened up the inside of his jacket to get his credential, knowing it'd be the only way for Mikasa to accept coming along with him. Something inside his guts told him she'd put a bit of a fight, and he was right. Her eyes turned absently and watched him cross the street to the exact place she was standing.

He heard her gasp, lips parting in surprise and taking a few steps back at the way he carried his entire being, advancing with giant and confident steps, so fast, so imposing. Even if Mikasa wasn't thinking clearly at the time, she couldn't help but notice all of the things that made Eren who he was, things that belonged to him, he owned them. The way he moved, large leaps and bounds with his head held up high, shoulders swaying in sync with his footsteps and running a hand through his sloppy hair that grew out in all directions, unyielding like his own heart.

Even the look on his eyes was the same.

Mikasa blinked when he stopped in front of her, unfolding his wallet and showing her his credential right in front of her nose. Then she heard his voice, thick and raspy and so deep, nothing to what she used to remember. It was not the voice of a child nor a boy. It was the voice of a man.

Mikasa felt so powerless under his gaze, so small, so weak. 

So damn weak.

"Agent Eren Jaeger from the Survey Corps. I'm gonna have to ask you to come with us so we can begin the interrogation for the death of Theo Magath," he said, out of the blue. Eren tucked his wallet inside his jacket and leaned forward to grab Mikasa's arm, ready to make her follow them but as soon as his hand touched the delicate skin of her wrist, she jerked it out of his grip, squealing in surprise. 

"W-What do you think you're doing?" she was a complete mess, from the sound of her quivering voice to the state of her hair and makeup, "I won't go anywhere with you."

Eren choked out a sigh. "Mikasa."

The mention of her name seemed to irritate her. She turned to Connie, eyes burning in fury, she looked like she was about to start crying at any second.

"Where is Jean? I want to see him." She demanded.

Connie gave Eren a sideways glance, nervous. "I already told you, he went inside to sign the papers for — "

"Where the hell do you know Kirstein from?" Eren asked with a frown.

Jean? What the fuck?

Mikasa ignored him. "Can you just bring him back, please?" her eyes were now on Connie, pleading and deliberately ignoring Eren's presence. "I've been here for an hour, waiting and freezing to death."

"But you'll have to give the interrogation anyway," Connie spoke patiently, somewhat embarrassed with the situation. "Why don't you come with us to the barracks? Jean will be there, while he does all the paperwork you can agree to speak to us, you'll leave sooner then."

Mikasa remained silent, however, she didn't say anything else. Standing there in the cold was not the smartest thing to do and Jean would probably take some time to get the papers done, she had no other choice but to go with them. On the other hand, Eren's mind was eating him alive, asking himself where the fuck Mikasa knew Jean from, asking if maybe he was mistaken, maybe this wasn't Mikasa, maybe —

No. _No._

She had to be. She just had to. 

With a heavy sigh, Eren hid the wallet in his pockets, taking off his jacket to place it on top of Mikasa's shoulders. She fought back, trying to get away from his grip and never daring to look at him in the eye. Eren managed to put the jacket on her anyway. 

"There's press at the entrance," he said with a strained voice, not only because he didn't wish to keep upsetting her, but because of the strange pain that grew in his chest at the way she was watching him. Like he was some sort of criminal. "It's cold, too."

Connie watched the scene cautiously, feeling somewhat responsible for Eren's actions. His friend took Mikasa's arm gently to lead her towards the barracks but she pulled away from him one more time, avoiding looking at his face.

"I can walk by myself."

Neither Eren nor Connie said anything else. 

Silence engulfed their surroundings as Mikasa crossed the street to the barracks, two shadows following her from behind and staring at the way she'd trip on her _zori_ shoes now and then like she was a rookie, like she hadn't spent ten years of her life learning how to walk on them. She could feel Eren's gaze piercing through her soul from behind, his steps the music that carried her, escorting her like some sort of tragic princess. On their way to an important meeting at the teahouse that afternoon, Jean had to stop the car in the middle of the street when he saw a large number of people blocking the way, the crowd cornered at the end of a building. Curiosity overwhelmed them and they both abandoned the car to get closer, that's when Mikasa saw him. Theo Magath's body on the ground, cold dead. She was speechless. 

And her eyes completely dry.

She didn't cry, heart not even skipping a beat at the sight of a man she hoped she'd never see again. His somber corpse, a leg broken from the fall —people said he had jumped from the building— the blood that was leaking from his head, tainting the soil black. Nothing seemed to surprise her that day. Not even when the Survey Corps arrived to take all the people present and begin the investigation. Theo Magath belonged to the Military Police and it was the Survey Corps' job to investigate the situation when Magath didn't even live inside Wall Rose, for years the Reiss had kept him hidden in Sina, and now the war seemed to be taking a dangerous turn.

And Jean didn't know. He had no idea who that man was even if he knew part of Mikasa's past; she never told him the name of her aggressors. She kept it a secret for years, trying to erase it from her memory... until now.

But fate had an interesting way of making fun of her, of playing with her body like a puppet, taking her to places she didn't want to go, forcing her to see faces she only wanted to erase from her mind. Her life had been a constant pattern of hits, after hits, after hits. A journey of never-ending loss, doors of unsolved grief and windows full of memories she'd forced herself to shut down. That was the only thought that surrounded her until they reached the barracks and Eren placed his hand on her shoulder, Connie making his way through the crowd of journalists taking photos until the doors closed behind them and Eren's arm was still glued to her body, stuck to her presence, stuck. He was stuck to her. She could feel his scent everywhere.

Autumn. Summer. Pomegranates. 

Eren.

With trembling hands, Mikasa pushed him away slowly, finding Jean at the end of the hall arguing with a woman behind a desk, probably trying to sign the papers to end this madness. Without even a warning, Mikasa shouted his name, finding the stability she was looking for, leaving a confused and somber Eren behind.

"Jean!"

At the mention of his name, the man turned, spotting his beloved geisha running to his embrace. His features slackened, abandoning the woman behind the desk to reach out for Mikasa, the black cane he was holding matching his highly expensive suit. Everything about him screamed aristocracy.

Jean welcomed her into his arms gently, holding her cheeks carefully while Mikasa's hands found the skin of his wrists, both whispering things under their breath and Eren felt like throwing up. Connie didn't know what to do, he wasn't prepared to stop Eren if he planned to do something crazy. Seeing Mikasa had already been difficult enough, seeing her again next to one of his worst enemies was dreadful.

"Are you alright?" his hands pushed her hair away, his voice thick with worry.

Mikasa nodded, slightly turning to Eren. "Yeah."

Jean glanced at them, a frisky mood taking over his features. "She didn't do anything wrong," his voice said, "when we left the car people were already there. Do you think we killed Magath, Jaeger?"

Eren was not intimidated. He got close enough to stand next to Mikasa, her presence fading under the shadow of his body. "Don't interfere with the law, will you? Go back to your paperwork or whatever the fuck you're doing, Mikasa is coming with me. Besides, what are you even doing here with h — "

"Eren," Connie warned, holding his arm in case things got ugly. He was so done being his babysitter, fuck.

Jean let go of Mikasa, facing Eren with his head held high. "Watch your tone, Jaeger. And I'm her danna," he remarked the last word with exaggerated possession. "Not that it's any of your concern."

Eren grimaced, disgusted, eyes landing on Connie for a second. "Her what?"

Mikasa sighed, taking Jean's arm. "It's okay, Jean. Go on and finish up your papers, it's clear to me they're only trying to bother us. It's the only thing the Survey Corps know how to do," Mikasa muttered her words with a poison that intoxicated every breath, every heartbeat, every ugly stare.

For an instant, all the joy and hope that overwhelmed him when he saw her minutes ago vanished away completely. Eren felt the air in his lungs escape him, leaving an empty shell of a man. His air and his hope and his joy abandoned him just like everything else in his life. Like his father did when he was young, leaving his soul at the mercy of a kind woman in an orphanage. There was only so much he still held in his grasp, only so much he could still hold on to and the hope of finding Mikasa again was one of those things, his sole purpose in life. He had nothing, absolutely nothing. They were at war, Eren a soldier in the front lines, risking his life day after day for no reason at all—maybe just to feel something, a rush of adrenaline he could no longer find in a girlfriend he didn't love, a mother that wasn't his to own and a brother that couldn't hold his gaze for more than five seconds.

He'd seen friends die and come to the realization that his family could die too, nobody was innocent at war, no one was completely safe. Not even himself, yet he forced his broken body to keep moving forward, to wake up every morning and _fight_ , to continue living because he had a promise to keep. He couldn't die now, not yet. Every time death knocked at his door asking for his permission to leave, Eren would give one of his signature smiles: the crooked lip, the wrinkles around the nose, the spark in the eyes. "Not yet," he'd say, like reciting an oath. "I have a promise to keep."

_Let's go home._

Jean nodded, sighing, holding Mikasa's hand and whispering a delicate _I will get you out of here_ that forced Eren's impulses to overtake every part of him. He grabbed Mikasa's arm to separate her from that asshole and lead her to the interrogation room. This time she didn't resist, in silence she allowed herself to be carried away by his presence through the corridors while Jean's silhouette disappeared in the distance. Mikasa looked up at Eren, he kept his jaw clenched, his furrowed brows accentuating the intensity of his gaze even more and it was too much for Mikasa, so she looked away. Years haven't changed the way his eyes made her feel, especially when he was angry.

When they reached the door of what Mikasa assumed was the interrogation room, with a table and two chairs facing each other, Zacklay appeared on the scene with a list of papers in his hands. She'd seen him before when they arrived, he was the one who spoke to Jean before he left her waiting outside. He gave a long sigh when he saw Eren.

"Historia is on her way here but I told her not to bother, there's a lot of work to do," he said, taking off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. He gave Mikasa a glance. "Is she the last one?"

Eren nodded. "Yeah, Marco and Connie took care of the rest."

"Well, then," Zacklay said, checking the papers in hand. "We don't have much information about you, nothing at all, actually. Shit, hold on for a second."

Zacklay went to the room and began to rummage through some drawers but Mikasa knew he wouldn't be able to find anything. Okiya's did not only take care of geishas, they also provided extraordinary methods to hide them from society. An okiya was the perfect place for any woman who wanted to disappear from the earth, to erase every trace that could help other people find them. Mikasa slowly removed her arm from Eren's hand.

"I want to go to the bathroom."

He watched her as if she were joking. They kept the staring game for a moment, tension flowing through every vein while sounds of drawers being opened and papers being wrinkled sounded like vague whispers from the past, akin to the present moment and the way her body shivered under his stare, not only because she was afraid he could spot the scar on her cheek but because Mikasa knew that simple thought was more than absurd, he knew who she was. He could see right through her without even trying, so hidden behind her masks yet so clear as water to him. Eren sighed, giving up, pointing to a door at the end of the hall. Mikasa turned away from him and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She stopped in front of the mirror, taking a big chunk of air. Over and over again, in and out, her hands gripping the sink with too much force. She would have to talk to him, after so many years of running away they would both see each other face to face and she'd have to answer every one of his questions, and Mikasa was more than convinced that Eren would take the opportunity to put aside his work and dive into much more personal territory, a place Mikasa wanted to avoid at all costs. 

With shivering hands she undid the updo that tied her hair, letting it fall into a cascade, long and silky. Her fingers ran through the locks to comb it and then turned on the water tap to wash up her face, the makeup losing its intensity with each splash. From the small cloth bag anchored around her waist, she took a small concealer to gently hide the scar on her cheekbone. Her hands smoothed back her hair a bit more, trying to cover the scar even further with her bangs. Mikasa blurted out a deep sigh, swallowing up her tears and gaining courage through the reflection in the mirror. 

"You're strong," she whispered to herself. "You are strong, Mikasa. You have to be strong."

She was. She had to be.

Mikasa abandoned the ladies' room in silence, the sight of Eren resting against the door of the interrogation room being the first thing to capture her eyes, like a moth drawn into his flame. He kept his fists hidden in the pockets of his pants, an empty gaze on the floor, his eyebrows wrinkling in a thought that felt so distant, it made Mikasa remain still for a few seconds, her heart about rip off her chest in the cruelest of ways. He noticed then that he was being watched, his strong features slowly softening when their eyes met and she took a step forward, ready to end this once and for all.

She sat in one of the chairs, Zacklay grabbing the papers he needed and turning on a small black recorder placing it in the middle of the table. Mikasa's hands trembled against her lap, nails sinking into her skin and reminding herself to give short answers. Eren stood against a wall, leaving Zacklay in charge of the situation. 

"Alright," Zacklay said, sitting on the chair and absently flipping through the documents. "I'll try to keep thing's short. Not for you, but for Kirstein. I don't want him here sniffing around and trying to discredit us just because he's your danna."

Eren frowned again, glancing at Zacklay from the corner of his eye. "Danna?" He asked.

Zacklay attempted to reply, but Mikasa disrupted him, her obsidian eyes fixed on Eren's face.

"My protector," she breathed in response, each word slipping through her tongue like a bittersweet wine. "And I'm sure he would have given the declaration in my place if it wasn't for the secretary holding him back at the reception."

"Yeah, well," Eren choked out a laugh. "That horseface isn't particularly famous for his sense of heroism, you know. Everyone here knows he's a fucking coward."

Mikasa gasped, furious. Coward? Eren, speaking of bravery? Was he brave when he — Mikasa bit her tongue and he noticed the sharp gaze, the way she seemed to be holding back. Zacklay intervened.

"Kirstein is not my concern, he'll bail out as he always does whenever he's in trouble," the man left the papers on the table. "Let's move on with this. Ever heard of Theo Magath before? Since Jean is your danna I assume you move around the Military Police quite a — " 

The sound of a telephone echoed in the room and Zacklay sighed tiredly, abandoning his place on the table to answer the call. Eren heard him speak to Historia, the voice of his girlfriend penetrating the walls yet his eyes never left Mikasa's face, scrutinizing her every detail, making her incredibly uncomfortable. Zacklay put the phone away and sighed again.

"Historia's car got stuck, I'm gonna go and pick her up. Take the girl's declaration for me, Eren."

Eren gave an absent nod, waiting until Zacklay left the room to take his seat, right across Mikasa. She watched him silently and for a moment Eren felt weaker than ever. Weak, weak, weak. Years of training as a soldier reduced to nothing because the girl in front of him possessed enough strength to tear down every wall around him, everything he'd managed to build over ten torturous years. She tore it all down.

And although interrogations were his specialty, Eren had no idea how he would approach the situation, he didn't even know where to start. His firm body leaned against the back of the chair and his fingers held the papers simply because he didn't know what else to do with his hands.

"Right," he murmured in a low tone, hands shaking miserably. "What were you doing at the crime scene this afternoon?"

Mikasa kept her eyes on the table, avoiding his eyes at all costs. "Jean and I were on our way to a meeting."

Silence.

Eren lifted his eyes from the papers, expectant. "And?"

Mikasa's hands brushed her hair away from her face, tucking some strands behind her ears. He could see how her fingers quivered, how pale they were, how nervous her whole demeanor was. "There were people gathered around a building, we couldn't get through, so we got closer to see what was happening and there he was. On the floor."

This was his chance. Eren knew the words that were about to leave his mouth were pure bullshit, but he had to ask. He had to do it. "Did you know Magath, Mikasa?"

He took her silence as a chance to scrutinize her spectral features, for a moment that's all Eren did, look at her. He knew it was her even if she didn't look like the Mikasa he remembered. He couldn't even visualize the scar on her cheekbone, a scar he made, the first of many. And perhaps a scar wasn't even necessary to convince himself that this was the girl for years he'd sought in every hidden place of these damn cities. Maybe it was his heart pounding deep in his chest, his cowering desire to break and start crying like a baby, his sweaty palms, the knot cramping in his stomach, the ache... sensations he had completely forgotten but now here they were, coming back to life and whispering a constant _it's her, it's her, it's her._ It wasn't the girl in front of him who confirmed his suspicions but the feelings that dominated him just by looking at her. And that was something no other woman had ever caused in him before.

Never.

Mikasa shook her head almost immediately, but Eren didn't give up so easily. "Are you sure?"

That seemed to enrage her. She looked up, cheeks flustered. "If you wanna know if I killed him, just ask," Mikasa replied, eyes fixed on the table. "Besides, isn't it good he's dead?"

Eren froze. "What?"

"Isn't it a good thing he's dead?" she repeated.

That was too much for Eren. He leaned forward almost out of impulse, his voice dropping an octave. There was fear in his eyes. "Mikasa, you're being recorded right now," all traces of irritation vanished from his face. "Think before you speak, they can — "

"He was a criminal. A thug, they said. The Reiss kept him hidden. I heard he was famous for abusing little children. A bastard like that deserves to die."

Eren's hands promptly grabbed the tape recorder on the table, pressing the stop button. The two of them stared at each other in silence, Eren losing himself in her eyes, red and swollen from the tears she was holding back. With a sigh, Eren stared at the wall for just a second, trying to gain the courage he'd lost since the moment she stepped into the room. His hands grabbed some papers and placed them in front of her along with a pen. It'd be better if he took her declaration by writing. 

Mikasa looked down at the papers and held the pen, hesitant. Eren leaned back and grabbed the pack of cigarettes Zacklay had left on the table hours ago. He took one, lighting it up, trying to calm down the nerves at the impossibility of being able to speak to her, to grab her shoulders and scream for answers that little had to do with the death of that bastard. 

"You have to write everything down before you go," he breathed, taking a puff from his cig and letting the smoke slip through his mouth with a loud sigh. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. "Or you can choose... and answer my questions."

But Mikasa didn't mumble a word. Her eyes peered down at the blank page, clutching the pen with quivering hands, the scent of tobacco sliding from Eren's lips as he flipped his paperwork absently, his leg shaking under the table, and so she stared at him. Observed him while his guard was down. Her puffy, red eyes sliding through the entirety of him, the boy — no, the _man_ , she still couldn't believe they were both in the same room, breathing the same air, sharing the same silences. And Mikasa wasn't startled to find in him things that she knew would never change, it was something Mikasa was certain of despite all the years they spent apart; he would never change. No matter how much they grew up, Mikasa knew that he'd remain the same. His hair was as mussed as she remembered, no matter how much you tried to fix it, it always went back to being a freaking mess. His freckles; Mikasa held back a gasp when she noticed they were still there, intact, countless dots of brown sprinkled all around his nose, an entire constellation she'd memorized by heart.

His olive skin, kissed by sunlight, full of little birthmarks and moles and traces of the years that had passed, his eyes standing out like two bright jewels in the dark. His lips exhaling the smoke, his prominent eyebrows and crooked teeth, the mere smell of him... a scent she carried on the jacket around her, the fragrance of summer and autumn and freedom mixed with something different, something else she couldn't quite distinguish. 

Eren dropped the papers on the table, checking the time on the watch around his wrist and his eyes blinked softly when he caught her watching him, surprised to find her staring at him that way. He noticed the papers were still intact and Mikasa lowered her gaze, ready to write, but her eyes threatened to burst into tears and her hand was shaking and Eren's heart clenched real hard, sending a wave of pangs all over his body. He always remembered the way she looked like when she was about to cry, the way the tip of her nose turned bright red and her lower lip hid between the corners of her teeth, the way her eyes would blink repeatedly as if trying to scare the drops away. 

It was breaking him. It was destroying him completely from the inside out, more lethal than any bullet his body had caught, leaving a deathly scar that would never heal. No scar on his body could've ever matched the pain of losing her. 

"Are you okay?" he asked warmly, his tone throbbing with a sweetness that Mikasa loathed with all her strength. 

She did not answer.

"Mikasa."

Suddenly, she slammed the pen on the table with great force, finally looking up to meet him. Mikasa wasn't going to continue his little game. Instead, she placed her bet on something worse, a crueler game, much viler and deathly. 

"Why do you call me that?" she demanded, annoyed. 

Eren watched her in silence.

_It's her. It has to be her._

He couldn't even find the strength to answer, couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice, a buzzing in his ears when his lips parted and breathed: "That's your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's just... the way you say it, like you know me. I don't know, I think you're mistaking me with someone else."

_Please, please..._

Eren held back the urge to laugh, tears threatening him with never-ending blindness and Eren fought the urge with his entire being. Never thought things would go down like this, never thought looking at someone face to face could be so disturbing. Yet there she was, acting so serene as if this wasn't a problem at all, as if her presence here was insignificant when it meant the whole world to him.

Eren knew this would happen somehow. He knew he'd abandon his duty and the right questions just to face something that for years he spent on searching, and now he had it right in front of his eyes, and he'd never felt so fucking lost.

His voice cracked as the silence engulfing them. "If this is some kind of game... stop, alright? Just stop."

But she continued mercilessly. "Why don't we get this over with, Agent Jaeger? Seeing how you keep staring at your watch, I can see you're quite bored."

_Stay calm, please, just calm down, please..._

"I stopped the recorder because every word in this room is archived, any emotional or irrelevant statement can — "

Mikasa interrupted again. "You want me to be that Mikasa, don't you?" she asked, a tear trickled down her cheek but she wiped it away almost immediately. "You want me to be that girl you're looking for. Even if you find her, what makes you think she wants to see you?"

Eren bit down on his inner cheek so hard he could almost taste the blood. His cigarette was clasped between his fingers, alone and forgotten. His eyes did not abandon her, both of them challenging each other with a piercing silence, trying to see which one could go further, which one could infringe more damage. It was like a game, a cruel game Eren didn't want to be a part of. And her words were the confirmation he needed, even if her scar was not visible on her cheek and her hair was too long... he didn't need anything else to know that this was Mikasa, his Mikasa. Because there was no other like her in the entire world.

"What are you trying to do?" he questioned, brows furrowed and eyes stinging. "When did you become so twisted?"

Mikasa snorted sarcastically, lips curving into a sad smile. "So? What's your verdict? Was I the one who murdered that man?"

Eren shook his head slowly. "Mikasa would never kill anymore," he whispered.

But then he saw it. In her eyes, that tear running down her cheek, her lower lip wrinkling and shivering, unfolding to say something she wasn't really sure of, but it was her last weapon to truly hurt him.

"If I was the Mikasa you're looking for," she sniveled, lips quivering. Don't say it, please, don't, no. Don't say it. "I would have killed you first." 

But Eren didn't give up. His brows twitched in pain, the ridiculous amount of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, tears he wouldn't have dared to share in front of anyone else but Mikasa wasn't anyone, so he kept going. He kept trying.

He kept moving forward.

"Even if you kill me... I still wish that you were Mikasa."

Mikasa broke down.

Her walls crashed all around her, the pieces bumping into Eren and cutting deeper than any sharp knife could. She choked out a sob, the palm of her hand covering her mouth, drowning the sounds and the sight of him was too much, her eyes ground shut. Eren blurted out a deep, heavy sigh, fingertips rubbing his eyes in an attempt to show some bravery, tears kissing the skin of his fingers and blurring his sight. He'd found her, finally, after so many years... it was her, there she was, it was her...

"I still..." Mikasa stammered, sniffing, her face a river of tears. She wiped them out with the sleeves of his jacket. "I still have your scarf."

Eren almost laughed, almost. He took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled the smoke out slowly, shivering like a miserable dog under the rain. Mikasa no longer referred to herself as someone else, a person Eren was desperately trying to find. She admitted it, the barriers were gone, the masks shattered in tiny little pieces. 

"My scarf?" he asked, lips curving into a sad smile, but she didn't return the gesture. "It was yours the moment I gave it to you."

"Well," Mikasa pressed her lips together, composing her fractured demeanor. "I'll give it back as soon as I can. I don't want anything from you."

Ba-dump.

His heart took another pang and the ache wasn't even making him flinch anymore, he was so used to it. So numb to the pain. "Mikasa."

"What were you expecting from me? A hug? An invitation to drink tea together because you think we have some catching up to do?" she mocked, breaking again. "The Mikasa you remember died the night you left her there, alone like a piece of meat and — "

No, no, no.

"Mik — "

But her voice rose higher and higher, an eclipse that threw him into the darkness of space. An endless black hole, sucking him whole. 

" — that since then she had to learn to survive on her own!"

Eren lost control. He tossed the cigarette aside and sprang out of his chair, kicking it in the process, fury consuming his senses when he slammed his hands on the table, but Mikasa didn't look intimidated at all. "I looked for you, okay?" he almost yelled, desperate. "For ten years, I have looked for you everywh — "

"It's too late for that!"

Stubbornness overwhelmed him, he shook his head repeatedly, backing away from the table and pacing around the room, pointing his finger at her. No, no, no.

"No, no," he said, over and over again, a prisoner to his own obstination. "I waited ten years to keep my promise. I sure as hell can wait some more."

Mikasa sobbed, but he continued. "If we've been separated for almost ten years," his voice cracked, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I wondered how long would it take you to come back. You are wrong, so fucking wrong. I didn't abandon you, and you didn't abandon me either, you just haven't come back yet while I'm still waiting for you. You're still on your way... and now you're here, you're finally here. I'm not going to screw things up, alright? Not now. Not again, Mikasa."

The sound of her body getting up from the chair alerted every one of his numbed senses, guessing her next moves as if she was some criminal he'd been ordered to catch. She moved to the door, as though to flee, but Eren was faster. He was there before she even got the door, holding the doorknob, knuckles blanching by the force and their hands touched when she tried to pry it away. "Open the door, Eren," she demanded, sobbing. 

It was the first time she'd referred to him by his name. And the way it tasted in her mouth, the way it reached out to his ears... somehow, it infuriated him even more, locking him inside a shell of obstination that he wasn't ready to abandon so easily. His hand jerked hers off the handle.

"No."

"Eren."

"You're not leaving."

"Let me go!" Mikasa yelled. "What else do you want? There's nothing to talk about! Just open the goddamn door!" 

His lips parted to speak, raging. Let her go? He'd spent so many years of his life searching for her, and now that he'd found her he was simply supposed to let her go? Just like that? But fate intervened, speaking for him. The door opened by itself, a frightened Connie lured by all the yelling and hatred. Mikasa watched him, realizing the door had been finally opened.

"H-Hey, I... uh... I just wanted to let you know that Jean already submitted a request to the attorney for her release. You can leave now, Mikasa."

Mikasa gasped. "Great."

Her body brusquely pushed Connie aside and stepped through the door as her feet streaked down the hall, frantic, hands clenching into fists and leaving her heart locked inside the interrogation room, beating and bleeding and dying. Mikasa spotted Jean in the distance, waiting for her, and there was nothing but relief in his eyes when he saw her. His arms received her with a warm embrace, the bars of a cage slowly taking her in, enclosing her in a place where Eren could never reach her. 

Jean's fingers ran through her hair, staring at her face. "Are you okay? I'm sorry you had to go through all this..."

Mikasa held his hands against her cheeks, nodding. "Just... let's go home, please?"

Jean kissed her forehead, nodding. "Of course. Let's go home."

He wrapped his arms around her shoulder and when they turned towards the exit, Mikasa looked past her shoulder, Eren standing by the interrogation room, staring at them and listening to the words he'd once whispered to her, words that now were being kept by someone else, by fucking Jean. Connie said something to him but Eren never answered, eyes stuck on Mikasa, eyes pleading not to leave him, words that she never heard, never even noticed. With hurried steps she left the Survey Corps' station, thinking that everything would be okay now, that no more bombs would crash onto her being but oh, how wrong she was.

Her life was an eternal lie.

A woman approached the front door, carrying bags in her hands, her dark hair fluttering with the cold wind. Mikasa froze, momentarily stopping her walk so abruptly that Jean looked down at her, confusion taking over his features. Mikasa gasped, hands grasping Jean's arm more firmly when her eyes met the woman.

It was her. It was her. Mikasa would have recognized that face anywhere. 

Kuchel.

Her mother.

Perhaps it was her kimono, despite her ragged look and stagnant tears, what made Kuchel stop to throw a gaze at the poor girl. Mikasa was smart enough to look away and cover her face with her hair, somehow hiding her presence under the shadow of her danna, hurrying him to walk faster. What the hell was her mother doing in here?

It was a pretty geisha, Kuchel thought. But somehow she knew it too. Knew something wasn't right when she saw Eren leave the station as if being chased by the devil itself, thinking that he'd go out to meet her like they had planned earlier that day. Kuchel had prepared his favorite food, ready to feed the poor boy, but it wasn't her that Eren decided to follow. He wasn't even aware of Kuchel's presence when he ran to the street, stopping at the sidewalk with his eyes fixed on the geisha getting into a black vehicle, a young man with a cane closing the back door so she could get inside.

Kuchel gasped, hands trembling at the thought.

_I think I saw Mikasa in Shiganshina._

His words echoed in her head and Kuchel knew, knew, _knew_ Eren wasn't lying. Now the evidence was lying right before her eyes, and it wasn't due to the girl.

It was Eren.

Eren, always with his head up high, the posture and body language of a king, a hero; now completely worn out, hunched over, his gaze and his frown fixed on a car that was slowly mingling with the darkness of the night, the spark in his eyes disappearing just like that girl. 

The young soldier decided that he'd had enough, that it was time to go back inside when he spotted Kuchel standing at the front door, hands holding bags with a worried expression. Yet despite his discouraging posture and his red, puffy eyes—he'd been crying, Kuchel noticed immediately—Eren smiled at her. A sad, tender grin. And Kuchel loved him just a little bit more if that was possible. In that particular instant, she remembered why she loved that boy so damn much. 

Eren went to her, placing a peck on her cheek. "What took you so long? Did you bring the food?" he asked casually, peering at the bags she was carrying.

Trapped in some weird trance, Kuchel nodded. "Y-Yes."

"Good," he wrapped his arm around her. "Let's go then."

Eren led her through the corridors towards the interrogation room where he'd previously been. He closed the door shut and cleared the table, helping Kuchel set the dishes she'd prepared for him, including Knödel. Silence filled the room for a while, Eren eating his food with fervor, never ceasing to flatter her culinary talents, joking that Historia would never be able to cook something as good as this, much less Petra. However, Kuchel observed him, watched the way his eyes smiled but the happiness never reached them, the way his hands trembled as he held the spoon and took a few seconds to play with his food.

She never expected what came out of his lips so suddenly.

"You know," he commented so casually, like talking about the weather. "When I find Mikasa, if she pretends not knowing who I am I'll say, 'hey, are you really going to pretend you don't know me, even with these dazzling eyes I have?' Yeah," he offered a nod, solemn. "Yeah, that's what I'm gonna say."

Kuchel swallowed, a knot in her throat. "J-Just... just keep eating your food, Eren."

Eren chuckled a little, mixing everything with his spoon and scooping a large chunk of meat into his mouth. "Anyway," he mumbled the words, his mouth full. "I think there's no way she won't know who I am. Remember when we used to play hide and clap? She always knew when I was close, said she could recognize the sound of my footsteps anywhere. How can anyone recognize anyone's footsteps? But Mikasa knew. Things like that, she'd always know."

Kuchel's eyes glared at him, vision blurring at the sight of Eren's eyes growing redder and redder until they gave up, losing their strength. The first tear came down, and then the second, and the third, and Kuchel's lips sealed tight. Eren choked out a strained laugh, lowering his head to his food, trying to control himself. But he was a storm of his own, always had been. A pandora box meant to stay wide open, his fire and his rage and his undying love going free to destroy everything around him, even his own self. 

"But I'm sure you noticed it too. The... the way she always looked at me," his smile faded, every muscle on his face twitching with grief, his soul being burned out alive. "But don’t worry. She... M-Mikasa... she'll come back even if it's just for me. Because... she misses me. So, I'm going to wait."

Tears pooled down in his eyes, trickling down his face, a cascade of blood that made him choke out an embarrassing chuckle, nodding as he kept on chewing. "This... this is delicious."

Then, he broke.

And they weren't just tears anymore. Sobs broke free from his throat as he panted, eyes fixed on Mikasa's favorite meal that he kept on eating just to feel her a little closer, just to force his mind not to forget her, to at least be able to remember what her favorite food tasted like because everything else was gone. The sound of her voice had changed and the way she'd looked at him, too. Her hair, her smile, she was a stranger to his eyes. 

Kuchel buried down her own feelings, bringing her hand to her boy. Her young, handsome boy, delicate fingers wiping his tears away as he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch of a woman that carried everything he loved about Mikasa, his only connection to the girl he couldn't save. Kuchel said nothing more and neither did Eren. There wasn't much to say after that.

Ten long, tortuous years. 

Eren would wait for her ten years more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wipes down Eren's tears* baby i'm so sorry
> 
> i don't have much to say for this chapter, it's one of my favorites and there's something really sexy about Eren crying so I'm probably gonna keep doing that to him lmfao. Also i'm blown away by y'all kudos/comments!! *hugs the people* thank you so much, it makes me very very happy, eremika 4ever.
> 
> follow me on twitter! @misswongs_ i post the fic updates there.
> 
> until next chapter!


	5. I Will Become the Ground You Walk On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Frieda's name for Kiyomi*  
> & Gabi's name for Hitch* i'll explain that later in the notes down below. enjoy the chapter!

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**«Scars deeper than love»**

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_«Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to_   
_My vague memory of you. I live with pain_   
_That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will_   
_Make to me an irreparable harm»_   
  
_**—pablo neruda.** _

* * *

Levi Ackerman didn't use to hang around his mother's inn as much as Eren Jaeger did—a man with whom he shared nothing but a distant past, a picture so misty and cold like vestiges of an old rain. Some people said blood was thicker than water, but Levi couldn't find himself to agree. For him, blood and water were the same. People, friends, family—all the same. Colors, voices, war, enemies —

— to visit his mother, to stay home, to go to work, to die in war, to live another day...

It was all the same.

For that reason, it didn't really matter. Whether he was here or somewhere else, but Levi considered himself to be a good son despite everything else and from time to time he did make an effort to visit his mother, like today. And the scenario would repeat itself over and over again, an eternal loop he knew by heart, like a postal card stamped on the refrigerator door that you'd seen too many times, now invisible whenever you were close by because it was always there. Unwilling to go, unwilling to change.

Levi sat in front of the counter drinking a cup of hot chocolate, bored eyes staring at the news on the small TV hanging on the wall, his mother preparing lunch for him. 

"So, the man tried to sell me a bag of potatoes for the price of two, can you believe that?" Kuchel complained casually, hands whisking the pan of eggs with frenzy, the inn nearly empty despite being so early in the morning. "I told him that he could shove his money up his filthy ass, that with my tavern I earn enough and that the gods would punish him for trying to scam me. And that's not all, I reminded him that I have two sons in the Survey Corps and that if he didn't offer me an apology he would get into serious trouble."

Levi huffed, taking another lazy sip from his mug. "You're such a whiny woman."

His mother ignored his words. "Shut up, and come visit me more often," she replied, placing the plate with scrambled eggs right in front of him. "There you go, eat it all. It's like you've forgotten all about me, you don't even call anymore."

Levi picked at the eggs with his fork. "I already told you, I've been busy. Erwin named me Captain of Special Operations."

As if someone had flipped a switch, his mother's mood suddenly changed. She delivered a bright smile, one Levi couldn't hold for more than two seconds, eyes rapidly drifting off to the plate full of untouched eggs. Her eyes had a certain depth, her smile a reverence he couldn't fathom. 

"I'm so proud of you. You are the right hand of Erwin Smith himself! Who would have thought?" she began to wipe the counter with a wet cloth. "With how short you are, I would have thought you were a child instead of a soldier."

"Screw you."

The cloth hit the side of his face before he could even take a breath. "Watch your tongue, young man."

His eyes held hers in surprise, body sinking under her presence with a hand frozen where the cloth had touched him. "Could you at least hit me with something that isn't dirty?"

"God, it's just a wet cloth, Levi."

He was more than ready to protest when the doorbell suddenly rang, an all-too-familiar voice humming a warm "we're here!" that forced Levi to look away, Eren entering the inn with some bags in his arms, Petra following right behind. The girl's face looked pained, reddish from her efforts of having to carry most of the weight but her eyes lit up when she saw him sitting there at the counter. It was truly an oddity for Petra to cross paths with Levi these days, the boy didn't even walk around the store despite living in the same city. 

"Levi!" she squealed, excited as a child. And she was. She was only twenty years old.

Levi looked away, muttering something under his breath, Eren's chuckle piercing his ears like poisoned daggers. He left the bags over the nearest table. "I didn't know you were coming today, dwarf," he teased, passing past him and tugging at his ear.

Levi jerked his hand away. "Fuck off."

"Levi, be nice," his mother's protest vanished the moment Eren crossed the counter and wrapped his arms around her. 

Levi rolled his eyes, ready to gag until Petra sat next to him, a bright smile planted on her face. He glanced at her. The girl fixed her short hair a few times, red strands kissing her eyelashes, the tip of her tongue repeatedly licking her lips to make them shiny and bright. Levi held back the urge to laugh, Petra had always been a strange girl.

Eren's voice infiltrated the scenery like water. "Hey, watch out. You're drooling," he pointed out, an arm wrapped around Kuchel's shoulders.

Levi hid an embarrassing blush by looking down at his food, Petra imitating his coy yet strange demeanor. 

"Did you bring everything from the list?" Kuchel went to the bags, peeking inside each one of them. 

Eren offered a nod, hopping on top of the counter and stealing some potato chips lying on a metal bowl. He gulped down some and spoke with his mouth full, as always. "Yup. But Petra didn't have a good time. Tell them what happened, Petra."

The girl sighed, terribly flushed, slouching in the chair and covering her cheek with deep sorrow. "There was this really cute guy at the store, I had already bought everything and I was waiting for Eren to stop flirting with Frank's daughter so we could leave."

"I wasn't flirting."

Petra continued. "I had nothing else to do, so I smiled at the guy when I found him staring. I was thinking maybe he thought I was pretty? Maybe he would come closer and ask me out or something, since no one ever asks me out anywhere," her last sentence came with a sly, spiteful look at Levi. He huffed in response, going back to his eggs. "But when he came up to me he said _'hey, excuse me, but you have something stuck in your teeth._ '" 

Eren burst out laughing as if it had been a new joke to him, holding his stomach, leaning forward. Levi wanted to laugh too, but the story was too pathetic to amuse him. But Kuchel didn't find it funny, she gasped and held Petra in her arms, stroking her hair. "But I'm sure he saw you very pretty too, darling."

Petra leaned her cheek on Kuchel's shoulder, features contorting in embarrassment. "It's not true. No one ever wants to date me."

Eren chuckled. "Why don't you ask her out?" he didn't flinch at the piercing stare Levi delivered in response. "You can go to a park, share an ice cream cone and exchange some saliva."

"Gross."

"I wouldn't mind," Petra's suggestion came with a shrug, eyes wide and sparkling with hope. 

"No, thanks," was his response, taking one last sip from his mug. "I don't want your grubby teeth messing up my ice cream."

The girl squealed in frustration, Kuchel gasped in disagreement and Eren continued to laugh. Slowly, the atmosphere shifted to something dangerous. Eren joking around, Kuchel shaking her head in disbelief, Levi throwing a few curses under his breath and Petra trying to get her long-awaited date. Over the years, Levi had grown used to this scenario, the feeling of stability a family could offer. However, deep inside his chest, something throbbed and kicked and screamed a dry _it's not enough._ Something was always missing, a piece lost many years ago. Dimples and eternal eyes, a red scarf and a shivering body sneaking into his bed on nights when the sky was too cruel. Someone who'd argue with Eren and make him mad, someone who'd follow him till the end of the world because that's how loyal she was.

Mikasa.

_No, no, no._

Levi blinked, sinking into himself and forcing that ghost out of his mind. Years and life's experiences had taught him to bury his emotions deep within his chest, blocking their way through, preventing them from leaking out like blood from a dying soldier. He had enough shit to deal with already to add more to the list, but Levi couldn't help thinking about it again when he heard Eren ask his mother to make more Knödel for him, and then Levi knew. He knew he'd enough inside that place. It was one of the many reasons why he didn't come by often, work was just an absurd excuse to justify his constant absence. Mikasa's spirit lived everywhere he went and Levi wanted to run as far away from it as possible.

Or it would end up killing him.

Levi got up from his seat and saw the disappointment in his mother's eyes when she realized he'd be leaving, even after she told him how happy she was to spend the day together with Eren, hoping to hold on to whatever was left of her son, but to hold Levi was like trying to catch smoke in the palm of your hand. Sooner or later, Levi always left, raising a barrier between his soul and the entire world. It was for the best.

Kuchel didn't protest. She helped him put on his coat and Levi let her, he let his mother have a moment of tenderness, to caress his cheek and smooth back his hair. "Call me, alright?"

A nod what his answer. "Yes, mom."

"Be good. Stay out of trouble. And eat well, you know how sick you get in autumn."

"I'll call you when I'm home," was his reply, but they both knew he wouldn't. 

Levi pulled away, walking towards the exit as Eren got off the counter with a little jump. "Are you going to the station?" 

"I'll stop by Shiganshina first, gotta give Armin some stuff," he said, and raised his hand to say goodbye, opening the door to leave. "See ya."

Thus, as the firm embrace of the wind wrapped itself around his withered body, the leaves of an early autumn welcomed him like the arms of death. Everyday Levi waited for his final moment to come, every morning his eyes parted open, wondering if today would finally be the day, but life kept on going, his days kept on existing and hours kept on passing by, making him feel older than what he truly was. He looked up, a tree above him raining red leaves that collapsed against him like daggers dropping from the sky. Not even the seasons showed mercy in torturing him with memories of his sister.

It was a sentence he'd to pay till this day. 

**—o—**

"And one, two, three... one, two, three..."

Arms stretched forward, her body moved around the room with the grace of a phantom, the sun through the open doors landing on her long, silky hair, waving at the sound of the music, the teacher playing the _shamisen_ with a melody Mikasa knew very well. Forward, back, bow. Widening the vast expansion of her exposed nape, a spot that represented the most valuable part of a geisha, the most desired one. Her soft hands held the fans between her skilled fingers, turning them to hide her face, the rest of the maikos trying to follow her movements and repositioning their feet in the right way.

"Mikasa, keep your face up," the teacher said, and Mikasa bit her inner cheek, her silky robe floating with the morning wind and making the young girls gasp with admiration, whispering secrets to each other's ears.

But Mikasa's mind wasn't into it. Her soul trapped in an interrogation room far away from here, locked down like the prisoner she'd always been, unable to find release. Jean had taken her home that night, as he'd promised he would. Jean always kept his promises. He'd opened the door to her new apartment, holding her trembling hands in his own and Mikasa watched the expression on his face when she begged him to stay. Stay with her, spend the night there, shamelessly ignoring the notion that he had a wife to return to, a real home, somewhere he belonged.

His sigh was enough indication that she'd spend the night alone once more. "You know I can't," he'd whispered, brushing her hair like a child. A stupid, naive child. "I have to be in Sina in a few hours, but my driver will take you to Shiganshina tomorrow morning, I have a meeting and I want you there. Try to get some sleep, alright?"

Mikasa glittered her teeth, holding back impulses she wasn't allowed to release. This was her life, her exhausted monotony. Orders, a programmed agenda she had to follow without question. Strict schedules with absurd tasks and Mikasa could never give herself the privilege of doing what she wanted. She offered no response, what was the point? Jean's meetings were nothing without his adored geisha accompanying him everywhere, sporting her like a divine trophy. At every one of his requests, Mikasa was there for Jean. And yet he wasn't able to keep her company when she asked. Mikasa never asked for anything, and yet everything was denied to her.

"Okay," was her response.

Jean gently pinched the tip of her chin and with an impulse that rarely emerged from Mikasa, she reached out to kiss him on the lips. It was a chaste peek, as volatile and light as the fluttering wings of a butterfly, and Mikasa noticed the gesture took Jean by surprise. Even if there were compliments, intertwined fingers and kisses on the forehead, gestures as intimate as these had not been repeated in years. There was uncertainty in her gaze when she pulled away, when their eyes met and Jean held her hand to press a kiss on her knuckles, his last goodbye before leaving her alone. 

Alone.

She thought about getting some sleep, it was what she was supposed to do if she had to leave for Shiganshina tomorrow morning, but a spark of defiance squeezed her senses. Instead, her feet lazily moved around the apartment, suddenly realizing that she was still carrying Eren's jacket on her shoulders. Her fingers pulled off the fabric, holding it for a brief moment. Without even thinking about it, she brought the jacket close to her face, eyes falling shut when his scent overwhelmed her. So different and familiar at the same time, like a song you knew but couldn't remember hearing before. And it played for her. Mikasa heard it all around her, notes colliding in melodies that made her heart race and her breath quiver, it transported her to a past she didn't belong, a place she never wanted to return to, and the music suddenly stopped when she noticed the tears in her eyes and immediately pulled the jacket away, horrified. What the hell was she doing? 

With flushed cheeks, uncomfortable for acting in such a childish way, she promised to herself that she would find a way to return the jacket to him, along with his scarf. And thus she spent the night alone, buried in a cold bathtub and chugging a bottle of wine in the most unluxurious way. 

She drank the whole night, and the ghost of Eren came to torture her. The more she drank, the more she remembered. The more she remembered, the deeper her body drowned in the cold water. 

His tired expression, begging and dying with each word that came out of her poisonous lips. The green of his eyes losing all trace of light, all trace of life, discarding it through tears that reached the deepest parts of hell. The touch of his hand, the sound of his voice, piercing through space and time to find her, promising and swearing words she would've died to hear years ago, but that now she wanted to erase. 

_Even if you kill me, I still wish that you were Mikasa._

Her warm tears joined the cold bathtub. They embraced her as she cried, her voice echoing all around the apartment with no one to hear. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why wouldn't his eyes and his touch and his voice just let her go for once, release her, set her free? And her mother... her mother... what the hell was she doing at the station? Did she...? Did Eren...? With a groan and a sob and a broken heart Mikasa threw the bottle away, its pieces staining the floor in red. Mikasa didn't remember how she managed to get out of the bathtub the morning after and return to Shiganshina on time, but she was certain that she hadn't gotten any sleep and her head was killing her, and now she was dancing in one of the many okiya's in town, serving as a mentor for the young maikos and practicing one of her future performances.

And her eyes wouldn't abandon the view of the streets outside the doors, the music played and Mikasa danced, but her eyes kept on staring at a group of young Survey Corps soldiers patrolling the area, laughing and greeting each other, and her traitorous mind gasped when she saw a tall soldier, with brown hair and broad shoulders and she was certain it wasn't Eren, yet she gasped in fear, dropping one of her fans and stumbling on her sandals, knees meeting the ground with a loud thud.

The music stopped, the murmur of the maikos making Mikasa drift her gaze away from the soldier that had already left, she looked around, cursing under her breath as she grabbed the missing sandal, getting up on her feet.

"I'm sorry," was her only excuse.

A sharp sting pierced through the skin of her exposed legs, the gravity of the pain pulling her body to the ground, on her knees. The old lady who'd trained her for as long as Mikasa could remember had grabbed her rod and started to whip her legs. One, two, three times. The girl grimaced deeply, pressing the palm of her hand where the marks throbbed and stung, the aching burning through her skin.

It would definitely leave a mark. 

"You are not a maiko anymore, you are a geisha, a well-respected geisha, and now you've made a fool of yourself in front of your crowd," the woman hissed from above, looking down on her. "How dare you come here one hour late, looking and smelling like a naughty barfly from The Bee and Bugle? You are not a prostitute, you are a geisha. You might as well remember that."

In other times, perhaps, when bitterness and hatred were nothing but her daily bread, she'd have answered back, she'd have answered the same way her brother taught her many years ago, but buried and forgotten were the days where Mikasa could defend herself the way she used to. And to be honest, she was tired of fighting back, of making her voice heard in a place where everyone pretended she wasn't speaking at all. 

Mikasa kept her eyes on the ground, holding her unsteady breathing and listening to the maikos gather in a corner, far away from them, their quiet voices reaching her ears. "You don't have to remind me," Mikasa replied, hands turning into fists. "I know that very well." 

The woman huffed, disgusted. "Then start acting like one. Now get out, we're done here."

Mikasa quickly gathered her stuff, not bothering on putting on her sandals again. The streets of Shiganshina welcomed her with overwhelming life, the smell of freshly baked bread and the voice of merchants displaying their carriages making her soul become a part of them. Despite her bitterness, Mikasa truly loved Shiganshina. The people were poor, desperate for an escape, they were kind and hardworking, honesty being the fruit of their hard labor. 

However, not everything in Shiganshina was beautiful.

Mikasa reached the okiya with heavy limbs and a heavy heart, standing at the front door with a gloomy expression. Years had passed and everything looked the same: the dark rooftops, the wooden grating doors, the faint flickering of the red lamp burning bright as the first day she arrived here. With every inhale and exhale, Mikasa entered the place in silence, throwing the shoes to the side and immediately being wrapped by an intense smell of tobacco, its smoke already forming clouds all around her. Following its course, Mikasa stopped at the dining room, the silhouette of Kiyomi holding a cigarette being her welcoming surprise. The woman lifted her gaze, stopping the writing on her journal, her golden specks sleeping at the end of her nose. 

"You're here," she muttered, hoarsely. "I've heard you got your own apartment? How is it?"

Mikasa shrugged, looking down at the marks on her legs, leaning her body on the doorframe. "Fine, I guess."

Kiyomi chuckled, taking a puff from her cigarette. "Hmm. I guess we won't have you around as much anymore, huh? You must be happy."

"Does it bother you that I have my own place now?" Mikasa said, too tired for this shit so early in the afternoon. "I think I deserve it, I've worked my ass off. You won't be able to organize my schedule anymore."

Kiyomi stared at her for a moment, then she laughed. Taking off her glasses, her fingers rubbed her tired eyes, shoulders shaking with dry chuckles that made Mikasa clench her fists. The woman leaned back on the chair, sighing with amusement. "Ah, child," Kiyomi shook her head a few times. "I think you forget who owns this okiya. Jean may be your danna but it is me you owe a debt, have you forgotten? Jean is just your sponsor, as long as he doesn't get tired of you and sell you to another okiya or even buy your freedom, which I doubt, you're still mine."

Mikasa resisted the urge to reply. Held back her tongue, trying to calm the raging storm rising within her. She needed to be smart, it was a plan she'd meticulously worked out over the years at noticing Jean had shown no interest in buying her freedom. Kiyomi had no children or husband, she lived solely for the okiya, and it was her obligation to proclaim an heir on the day of her death—a day Mikasa fervently awaited. Thanks to the fame Mikasa's success brought the okiya, Kiyomi had decided that Sasha would be the one to inherit the business. Even if Sasha was a geisha just like Mikasa, she'd been a maiko once, and both shared the popular sisterhood ritual. Mikasa was the first to debut as a geisha while Sasha remained as a maiko, being proclaimed her younger sister, someone Mikasa had to take care of and guide until she could leave that title behind, something Mikasa had achieved in less time than expected, surprising Kiyomi. If the okiya was left in Sasha's hands one day, Mikasa would have enough power as her older sister to break the contracts that bound them and buy their freedom, even over the deal she had with Jean.

So, she had to be smart. Keep her mouth shut, for Kiyomi's mood was as unpredictable as sea waves, if she got too angry she could change her mind about the future of the okiya and ruin her entire plan forever.

_Just hold on, hold on a little longer,_ her mind reminded her. However, the waiting felt as eternal as the time she spent inside that place. Sometimes it seemed, to Mikasa, that she'd spent most of her life waiting for things.

Waiting. Always waiting.

Without another word, Mikasa abandoned the hall to walk over to the patio in hopes to reach her room, but a fragile little chuckle stopped her way.

"What are you doing, little one? Come on, eat."

Suddenly forgetting all of her worries, Mikasa's eyes dwelled in the way Sasha's feet mingled with the grass on the patio, her high ponytail fluttering with the wind as she leaned her arms on the lower rooftop, playing with a stray cat that'd found her way to her. Her gaze softened, hearing her whisper things to the cat as if talking to a friend, because for Sasha Blouse everyone was a friend, even the ones that were meant to be enemies. 

Quietly, Mikasa's feet slithered through the grass, wrapping her arms around Sasha from behind to surprise her. "What are you doing?"

The girl gasped, chuckling, holding in her hands a bowl with meat. "Look! I found a cat."

Mikasa smiled, resting her chin on her shoulder, the cat rubbing his face between Sasha's delicate fingers, slowly opening up to her. For a short instant Mikasa saw the ten-year-old girl that arrived at the okiya one July night, many years ago, when the winds were cruel and the girl's heart was broken. She saw the child that wept for hours after being sold to the okiya by her father, a local farmer outside the walls, holding a piece of boiled potato between her quivering hands—the only thing she'd brought from home. And Mikasa, having already spent a whole year inside that okiya and knowing how traumatic the experience could be, quietly sat down beside her on the bed Nanaba had prepared for her that night. And once Sasha had stopped sobbing, forgetting for a moment the fact that she was the real protagonist of such a cruel night, gave Mikasa half of her potato, lips curving into a faint small that whispered a tender: "I'm Sasha."

From that moment on, that clumsy girl in pigtails became the only person Mikasa truly loved inside that place, a girl who did not think was capable of becoming a geisha but who Mikasa helped until she bled her soul out, a girl who transformed her tough training days into the most wonderful, always arriving late for traditional dance classes because they'd sneak out to buy snacks at the store, snacks they weren't allowed to eat. If coming to this okiya meant Mikasa would have Sasha in her life, she knew she'd do it all over again. 

Mikasa's fingers scratched the cat's ears, feeling it purr. "Don't keep it, Sash. Kiyomi won't like that."

Sasha failed to hide her disappointment, nodding slightly as she gave the cat more meat. "I know," her whisper made Mikasa let her body go, move to the side and rest beside her, watching her feed the cat. 

The young geisha blurted out a sigh, reaching out to pet the cat. "I saw my mom yesterday, she was at the station."

Sasha was probably the only one within the okiya who knew about Mikasa's past in great detail, however, Mikasa never told her the story until a long time later, when both performed their ritual to become sisters. Sasha had said that it was important that both could trust one another, her heart too desperate to know the reason behind her constant nightmares, the meaning of that red scarf she kept hidden in her drawer, the way she avoided talking about the orphanage she came from and her family. Now, taking advantage of the silence that surrounded them, Mikasa told her all about it: about Eren, the interrogation, about Magath's death and her mother arriving at the station so late at night. 

Sasha remained quiet as Mikasa spoke, both their eyes fixed on the cat, watching it eat and purr with a freedom only such creature could savor. A freedom they could never have. 

"Did she recognize you?" Sasha asked after a few moments of silence, the wind softly carrying out Mikasa's words into the abyss of the earth. 

"I don't think so."

"And do you know where she lives? Don't you wanna go see her?"

The stabbing pain lashed against her chest once more, Mikasa's eyes finding nothing but darkness when they fell shut. "I'm not going to beg for anyone's love. I'm fine the way I am now."

Sasha sighed, clearly not agreeing. "Why are you so stubborn? At least you have a family out there you could go back to when finishing paying off your debt to Mother. I have no one."

"I'm your family," Mikasa's answer came sharp and clear as a clover, eyes never leaving the cat.

Sasha sighed, reaching down to leave the empty bowl on the ground as the cat mewed his goodbye, swiftly disappearing into the distance. "I just really think you should go see her, Mikasa."

"I don't even know where she lives," was the girl's response, walking away from her friend to march towards her room, the doors open and inviting the late afternoon breeze. 

Sasha followed like a puppy, sitting on her bed when Mikasa began to look for the scarf in her drawer. "We can find out! We can sneak out and play detectives again."

"Sasha."

"Remember that one time we found out Hitch had a boyfriend but she wouldn't tell us who it was? We followed her for hours the next day, all over Shiganshina, and we saw them! She was making out with a Military Police guy! When Mother found out she was so mad, canceled all of her schedules and gave them all to you, remember? And with your paycheck, you bought me three boxes of ruby chocolate. Ah, I still remember those, they were really nice." Sasha was slowly raising her voice, clearly excited at remembering the things they did when they were younger.

"Sasha," Mikasa repeated, and this time she couldn't hold her smile. "If you want more chocolate, I'll get it for you, if that's what you want."

The girl sighed, annoyed. "That's not it. I mean, if you wanna buy more, I don't mind. But, what I mean is, we can find out where your mom lives and visit her. We can go together."

"They've never looked for me. It's pathetic to even think about visiting her," Mikasa's hands held the scarf, folding it over the bed, and then searched for Eren's jacket. 

"That's what Mother made you believe, you shouldn't listen to everything she says. Maybe she looked out for you but didn't know you were here, or perhaps she did and Mother hid it from you." 

Mikasa wrapped the jacket around the scarf, all traces of Eren right before her hands, things she'd soon be ready to discard. The young geisha shrugged, adjusting her silk robe. "We'll talk later. I gotta go see Armin."

A speechless Sasha was left behind as Mikasa kept moving forward, always forward, never ready to look back and face the past. She held Eren's things with trembling hands as she left the okiya with Kiyomi's voice echoing that she had an event with Jean tonight, reminding her to be home on time, but Mikasa offered no response. Ignoring Kiyomi was one of her favorite things to do, the only thing she had control over, the only thing that made her feel somewhat free. 

The road was short as Armin's teahouse wasn't far from the okiya, but she knew the place would be closed today. Armin took Sundays off to keep fixing the building and schedule the next future meetings. The gleaming wooden bars that showcased the front door were wide open, the interior visible to anyone walking the streets. Mikasa entered carefully, peeking around.

"Armin?" her voice summoned. 

The boy suddenly appeared carrying two large boxes full of fabrics, his face was red from the effort and Mikasa restrained the urge to giggle.   
"O-Oh, hi, Mikasa," he greeted, approaching the nearest table to leave the boxes there. He sighed, relieved, and smiled. "How are you?"

Facing Eren after ten long years unconsciously forced her memory to remember, not only the past they've shared but also everything around her, every moment glimmering into existence, like Sasha's smile hours ago, reminding her how great of a friend she'd been all these years, or the first time she came to the okiya. Seeing Armin standing in front of her, long limbs and linen flocks, took her to a different scenario.

They met when they were thirteen.

It happened the third time she'd tried to escape, four months after arriving at the okiya.

The first time had been during one of her traditional dance classes. Aunt Nanaba had sent her along with Hitch and as soon as her companion turned her gaze away, Mikasa ran away with all her might not knowing where she was heading to. Some guards from the Survey Corps found her and took her back, in goodwill, of course, but Mikasa hated them for it. The second time was at night, she'd stolen Nanaba's keys and escaped through the front door when everyone was asleep, running off towards the main bridge that connected Shiganshina with Wall Rose—she'd made sure to get the directions right this time—but Kiyomi discovered her plans, awake when Mikasa thought she was lost in a deep slumber.

The third time, however, had been the riskiest: her quivering body climbed over the rooftops from her room when she realized Nanaba hadn't locked the window that night. The wind roared in fury, a pouring rain threatening her tiny soul to burst into pieces, but the girl's persistent heart pushed through her fear just to reach her destination, just to take one step further and finally make it. But once she'd reached a place far away from the okiya, her feet played a trick on her and she fell on a garbage container in the middle of an empty alley, the neighbors saw her and alerted the authorities, forcing her shattered self to move, to get up and make it through the pain just to keep on running, trying to seek shelter somewhere else. 

Then, he appeared.

"Ptssss! Over here."

Mikasa stopped, panting and soaking wet, turning around. A blond boy was leaning from the end of an alley. She watched him, body tense, not knowing what to do. He raised his hand, encouraging her to follow him. Risking that he might betray her, Mikasa hurried towards him hesitantly and the boy took her arm to pull her into the darkness.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stuttering from the cold.

She'd seen that boy before, or at least that's what she thought. He worked with his grandfather delivering the newspaper, the copies landing on the okiya's front door each morning for Kiyomi to grab, her daily routine. However, she didn't know his name. 

Mikasa shook her head, gasping when a clap of thunder struck the skies and she held back the tears. "Kiyomi... if she knows I ran away..."

"You're from that okiya, right? I've seen you at the dance classes."

Mikasa nodded repeatedly, crying. "I-I don't want them to find me, they — "

"Come with me."

Thus, without saying anything else or asking for something in return, the boy named Armin took her by the hand and hid her in his home for an entire week. His grandfather prepared a room for her and cooked a delicious meat soup that Armin said was the specialty of the family. The boy had no parents, both murdered by the Military Police and condemned _rebels_ for opposing the Reiss in a social protest, so it was just him and his grandpa, both working blood sweat and tears to survive in a town that little had to offer to people like them. The old man reminded her a lot of Hannes, with his war stories and his secret bottle of whiskey hidden behind the third book of his glorious library. Armin showed her his collection, books about animals and science and all the places he wanted to visit someday. 

For an entire week, Mikasa was happy, but nothing good truly stayed with her for long. Kiyomi found her soon after that and made sure that Armin's grandfather ended up unemployed. He succumbed to a deep depression and no one wanted to hire him due to his age. He died shortly after, leaving Armin completely alone in the world. 

Kiyomi forbade Mikasa to see the boy again and she'd earned a beating worthy of an okiya, the whip touching every part of her body except for her face, their only source of income. But little Armin didn't give up so easily, as beautiful and fragile as he looked, that boy possessed the spirit of a roaring lion. When Mikasa finished one of her many dance classes, she saw him walking through the streets towards her, Mikasa rapidly tried to run away from his presence, scared to get him into more trouble, but Armin made sure to sneak out a tiny piece of paper in her hand, both parting ways and leaving Mikasa speechless. She cried when she read the words written in perfect calligraphy. 

_"I just got a job in a teahouse as a cleaning assistant.  
I will work hard to become the owner so we can be friends again.  
I'm sorry for everything. I'll help you escape someday, I promise._   
_Armin."_

And although he hadn't been able to help her escape yet, he had kept his first promise: to become an important teahouse owner, their friendship blooming from dry land like ivy penetrates the vast expansions of the earth solely to exist. Of all the people Mikasa had met in her life, Armin was the only one who kept every one of his promises to her, yet Mikasa wasn't going to compromise him in such a way. She would escape on her own account once Sasha inherited the okiya, but Armin's good intentions were very hard to ignore. Of all the disgusting men she had to deal with as a geisha, Armin was the only one who treated her like a lady, like a real human being. 

The debt Mikasa shared with Kiyomi couldn't even compare to the debt she felt towards Armin, not for having granted her freedom but for having given her the most sincere friendship of her life.

Mikasa nodded, smirking kindly, watching the boy who helped her so many years ago asking a soft "how are you?" that Mikasa knew was as sincere as his heart. Armin never asked questions out of good manners or politeness, even if he did have them. Armin was probably the most sincere man in the world.

"I'm alright, I was just passing by, I have a meeting with Jean tonight."

Armin rolled up the hem of his sleeves, nodding as he approached her. "Oh, yeah, I think he mentioned something about it. Sorry about the mess, you know how my Sundays are," he echoed, pushing some boxes out of the way. "What do you need? Did Jean send you?"

Okay.

This was it.

She took a deep, painful breath. "Not really, I... uh, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Armin's soft brows arched in curiosity. He offered a small nod, shrugging and taking a seat, inviting her to follow him. She sat on a chair, holding the jacket in her hands with much force than needed. 

"Soooo," Armin sang the words, like a child. "What's up?"

Mikasa's lips parted, hesitating. "I... I was wondering... are you friends with Eren Jaeger?"

The question took Armin by surprise. He paled, eyes widening as a deep blush coated his cheeks. He began to stutter, Mikasa knew that Armin stuttered when he got nervous about something. "H-Holy mother of Sina..." he hushed, eyes staring at her in pure shame. "Did he bother you? Did he ask you out or made a bet with — no, no, you know what? Don't tell me, I don't wanna know. I-I'm so sorry, Mikasa, I told him to stay away from geishas when he came here last time b-but he's a fatuous little—"

Mikasa quickly raised a hand, shaking her head repeatedly. "No, no, of course not," she hastened to reply. "I just... could you give him this when you see him?"

Mikasa opened the jacket, revealing the red scarf inside. Armin looked at it in confusion, reaching out to hold both the scarf and the jacket. "Sure, but, why? Do you know him?"

Do you know him?

Of course she knows him, Armin. He is probably the only person she ever knew in her entire life. She knew the sound of his voice and still does even though she only heard him speak once after ten years; his voice is like a portrait of his soul: wild as fire, sharp as broken glass, sweet and clean as a clover. She knows the way his hands move when he speaks, explaining his words with gestures because he fears no one will understand the magnitude of what he's trying to convey. She knows how passionate he is when he talks about the things he likes, his words stretching out for hours and drawing conversations about the stupidest things is too easy for him, hearing him speak is something fascinating even if he's trying to describe the shape of an apple, his words intermingling as if he's giving an emotional speech before marching towards his final battle. She knows his mischievous smile, the one that pretends to be friendly but hides wickedness in his gaze as if he'd just set fire to an entire city and had gotten away with it. His eyes are the most wonderful thing, Mikasa doesn't think they belong to him anyway. As a child, she had this theory that a fairy flew over him one night and accidentally dropped precious stones from her dress onto his eyes; emeralds and crystals and a mixture of colors too fascinating to belong to this world, the universe had been created purely to be seen by his eyes. 

He has freckles, tiny spots scattered all around his nose, accentuating whenever he laughs. The imperfect shape of his teeth, the pronounced fullness of his eyebrows and his giddy serial killer laughter. His olive skin, full of birthmarks and moles and scars in the most secret places, cheeks that paled in winter and his little elf-like nose, pointy and thin and stunning. He likes to make things, as much as he spent his childhood breaking stuff and getting punishments for it, his hands have the nature of rebuild and restore and reborn from the ashes. He was an artist and his heart was his biggest masterpiece. He snores when he sleeps and Mikasa could swear she heard him talk in his slumber, too. His ears redden when he lies and he's so pure, so honest, so transparent that it's impossible to be fooled by his gaze, Eren can never lie properly. He's fast to run and tender to hold her hand. His scent picks up all of Mikasa's favorite fragrances: autumn, eucalypt, freshly chopped wood, the orphanage's river, the smell of wet earth after a long storm. He used to be tall as a kid and was even taller now, as a man. He loved crime movies and getting into trouble was his favorite entertainment. His favorite color was blue and his untamed hair looked pretty hilarious in the mornings, just as the dark circles under his eyes whenever he smiled.

He loved junk food and chocolate ice cream, always messing up his shirt when eating. He was reckless and sarcastic and funny and impulsive and wherever he was, he was always the center of attention. It didn't mean he was flashy or vain, we stare at the fire because it flickers, because it glows. The light is what catches our eyes, but what makes a man close to a fire has nothing to do with its bright shape. What draws you to a fire is the warmth you feel when you come near. The same thing happened with Eren and Mikasa had to stop thinking, stop feeling, the memories of him piercing through the cracks of her being, lightning up everything around her. 

Do you know him?

_Better than I know myself,_ Mikasa thought. 

"We grew up together in the same orphanage," she answered out of inertia, her gaze fixed on the scarf that Armin carried in his hands, part of her didn't want to let it go.

Armin gasped, eyes growing in size, then he laughed. "Woah, really?" he asked. "Woah, bazinga! How wonderful! The world is small, isn't it? I never would have known. So, I guess you know Kuchel and Levi too, right?"

At the mention of her brother, something deep and sharp trespassed the line between nightmare and reality. She wanted to hide, with all the strength in the world she tried to smile and continue a conversation she'd started, but she couldn't. Her eyes blinked repeatedly, and the tears she swore wouldn't come down today started to gather at the corner of her eyes. Her chest contracted and burned and Mikasa fought the urge, not letting Armin see her weakness. 

She felt miserable. "Y-Yes," was her reply. Taking a deep breath, she pushed forward. "Do they live together?"

Armin continued, clueless. "Something like that. Kuchel owns a tavern in Rose, but Levi doesn't live with her. Eren stays over at Kuchel's once in a while but since he works with the Survey Corps he's always traveling from town to town, he wanted to get a house in every city because he hates hotels, Levi convinced him that they smell like shit," Armin giggled. "Woah, I really can't believe you know them. They know I work with geishas and yet they never mentioned you."

They never mentioned you.

_Don't cry, don't cry, please... don't cry, not here..._

"It's just... it's been a long time since we've seen each other," she said.

"Oh, well, I'm sure Kuchel will be glad to see you again. She always needs extra help at the inn."

Mikasa nodded several times, skin prickling with sweat, her mind trying to come up with something just so she could end the conversation. "Armin, do you have that blue necklace Jean gave you? Can I take it? I'd like to wear it tonight."

Armin smiled, nodding. "Sure, it's over there," he pointed out.

Mikasa abandoned Armin to cross over to the other room. She rested her back against the nearest wall and closed her eyes, holding back the tears. Fuck. Why did she have to come, why was she still trying to mess around with the past? It was better to just leave it like that, as if never existed, continuing forward without looking back. She sighed repeatedly until she heard someone coming through the main door, Armin's name being mentioned with a shout.

"Hey, Armin."

Accelerated steps. 

A friendly giggle from Armin. "What are you doing here? Did you suddenly remember that you have a friend named Armin and decided to visit him?"

A snort. "You're a little shit sometimes. I was hoping I'd find you dead or something, I heard the Military Police came to inspect the place? Fucking assholes."

"Yeah, they kinda freaked me out, but after what happened in Rose with Magath they've been very restless, thank Sina they haven't done more than messing up a few things. I spent all day cleaning, my back hurts."

A chuckle. "You soft baby. Anyway," paper noise. "Erwin sent me to give you these papers, it's an order so that those bastards won't come to screw you without a reason. Just show them this next time and they'll leave you alone."

"Ah, bazinga. Thanks, Levi."

_Levi. Levi. Levi._

Mikasa gasped, holding onto the nearest table because her legs suddenly gave out. She opened her eyes, desperate, and they ran around looking for a way to escape because that's what she'd been doing all these years: running away. But there was nothing, she was completely cornered. She hid behind the wall and covered her mouth with her hands, her heart beating way too fast.

"You came just for that? Don't you wanna stay? I can make tea."

Breathe, just breathe, breathe...

"You're such a little shit, aren't you? Tempting me with tea."

Armin laughed. "You can't resist my special recipes, I bet you don't drink teas like mine in Rose."

He still liked tea.

Mikasa began to cry silently.

"You can shove your tea up your ass, I can make them myself. And, no, I have to go, I just came to give you these documents because Eren will murder me if something bad happens to you."

Armin laughed. "Hey, wait, before you leave. You won't guess who's here."

_No, no, Armin, no..._ Mikasa looked around one more time, almost waiting for a magic door to appear so she could leave.

"Huh?"

Armin laughed again. "Ho, wait, you'll see."

Mikasa turned her face almost to the point of fainting when Armin left the room where Levi was and entered the place she was hiding. She saw him appear next to her with a smile that faded almost immediately. "Mik—"

He felt silent, stopping short. Mikasa's eyes must have looked insane for Armin to freeze in his spot like he did just now. She shook her head over and over again, fingers moving to her lips to make him stay silent, gesturing an anxious _no._ Armin blinked in surprise and looked back to where her brother was. And Mikasa thanked Armin for being smart, for he took the hint right away and with blanches features returned to Levi without a word. Mikasa gasped, body slowly unwinding against the wall.

"Uh, I-I think she's gone," Armin said nervously. 

Levi huffed. "What the hell did you smoke? Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah... just... ignore me, cleaning this place has left me a bit dizzy."

"Whatever. I'll leave before you freak out and decide to stab me with a knife," Levi paused, unsure. "Hey, you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry. Go."

With an improvised insult, Levi left the teahouse and without further ado, Armin ran to Mikasa, a sob breaking through her lips when she realized she was finally safe.

"M-Mikasa..." Armin said, distressed, reaching over to take her by the shoulders. "What happe—"

She rubbed her nose. "I'm sorry, Armin," her voice shuttered the apology in between constant sobs. "Just... just don't tell him about me next time you see him, please... don't..."

"But, I thought you — "

She held his hands, looking into his ocean eyes. "I promise to tell you everything one day. I have to go, I don't want Jean to see me like this."

Mikasa abandoned the okiya like death abandons the sheol, cold and ready to die.

**—o—**

"So, she was here."

Eren's voice carried a faint shiver that moved through the winds of Shiganshina, reaching heights unknown, passing through space and time and hoping it'd reach her, hoping his aching and need would find her when she needed him most. It was his one and only prayer. To be brutally honest, he wasn't planning on making a stop here, he wanted to spend the rest of his day off with Kuchel and Petra, something he couldn't afford to do as much as he wished, but an unexpected phone call from Armin immediately alerted all of his wild senses, not only because he was his best friend and Eren truly cared about his well-being, but because of the mention of one particular name.

Mikasa. 

Without even knowing what was going on, the mere mention of her name was enough for Eren to grab his jacket, steal the car from the station and drive to Shiganshina like the madman he was. He arrived at the teahouse in less than two hours and Armin waited for him with tea, the old jacket he thought he'd lost and a red scarf.

He held it in his hands the entire time he spent there.

Armin wiped his tears away, his eyes overflowing an ocean of emotions. "I can't believe what you're telling me."

He did. Spit out everything he kept in secret for years. He trusted Armin with all his being, but he never quite told him his past in full detail, much less when it involved Mikasa, a girl Eren never thought Armin knew so well. When his friend confessed that she came to the teahouse with his jacket and the red scarf, Eren felt like passing out. For years he'd known someone close to Mikasa... and he was clueless. Clueless. Eren felt completely useless, a gigantic piece of shit, how is that he never realized? Why didn't he know Armin and Mikasa knew each other? 

It broke his soul.

So when Eren told Armin what'd happened years ago, what they had done to Mikasa... Armin's soul couldn't contain the raging storm that burst out of his eyes. As his friend cried, Eren smirked with bitterness, his fingers sinking deep into the scarf, looking as polished as it used to, as if it had been kept in one place for too long. His heart pounded loudly knowing that it probably was the case, that Mikasa didn't throw it away in the first trash can that she found, that she kept it next to her because it meant that she still _felt_ , that there was still something inside her heart that prevented her from getting rid of it, of him, of both of them.

"Eren, I'm so sorry, I never would have thought that you... ah, dammit, this is terrible. But then..." Armin's brows furrowed as if he'd discovered something important. "Does this mean that... Mikasa is Kuchel's daughter?"

Eren nodded lazily. "Yeah."

"Ah, shit..." he stammered, his widening. "Y-You mean... Levi and Mikasa are siblings?"

Eren nodded again, confused. Armin was supposed to be smart, how come he wasn't getting it?

"S-Shit!" Armin gave a little squeal, rising from the chair he was sitting, holding his coconut hair like a maniac. "Oh."

"Hey, what are you — "

"That's why Mikasa was crying!" Armin gasped. "Because of Levi!"

His disinterested gaze alerted his senses and Eren quickly unfolded his back from the seat. "Armin, what the hell — "

"Levi was here today," Armin remarked, sinking into his chair again. "He came over to give me some papers and, oh..."

For an instant, Eren's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. "They saw each other?"

"No, no!" his friend clarified, waving his hands in the air. "But they almost did, Mikasa went insane."

Eren's eyes fell shut in frustration. Fuck. He sighed, groaning and rubbing his eyelids over and over. Armin scratched the back of his head, worried. "Don't ever mention Mikasa in front of Levi, Armin," he pleaded. "You would literally fuck the entire universe, I mean it."

Armin delivered a quick nod. "I-I won't, she asked me not to. Ah, poor thing, you should have seen her face. I thought she was going to faint, or have an anxiety attack, I've read about them," the boy cleared his throat and the genius-headed Armin Arlert suddenly emerged. "A long time ago, in a book. After such an agglomeration of past traumas, a person can present an immerse mental block when facing situations like these, a pathogenic aura that constantly surrounds the path as a result of its consequences."

Even if what Armin was saying contained extreme seriousness, Eren couldn't help but wrinkle his face in annoyance. "What?"

Armin sighed, searching the patience within. "That she can't get over the traumas of her past."

Eren's features slowly softened, nodding. "Oh, right. Well, listen to me, no matter what she's going through right now, as a good soldier of the Survey Corps I'll be there for her, even if she pushes me away."

Armin moved uncomfortably in his chair. "Hey, I don't mean to be rude but... she doesn't want to see you, or at least that's what you said. Why are you so gormless?"

"What?"

"Stupid," Armin clarified.

"Because my stupidity has paid off all these years," Eren took the scarf, wrapping it around his neck. "I've finally found her, do you think I'm just gonna walk away only because she doesn't want me around? I won't, because I know she doesn't mean it. The scarf, Armin. The secret is in the scarf."

"You're crazy," Armin replied. "What are you gonna do?"

The young soldier shrugged. "I'll do nothing. You will."

Then, he heard it. The exasperated groan that escaped his friend's lips, the hands running down his pale face, the expression of someone who'd just lost the bet of their life. "Why do you always drag me into your stuff? You always get me into trouble."

Eren laughed. "Come on. You know her, you've been with her all this time. I need to catch up on a few things, get it?"

Armin sighed, defeated. "What am I supposed to do?"

Eren tightened his grip around the scarf. "Just speak wonders of me every time you see her. I don't know, tell her I saved an old woman from being run over by a car, or that I helped a cat down from a tree, that sort of shit. I need to change the perspective she has of me. Break the ice."

"Eren, what about Historia?"

The name felt like poison on his tongue. He looked away, annoyed. "It's complicated."

"Eren."

"I just need you to tell me places Mikasa visits frequently. If I make her believe that our encounters are a simple coincidence, perhaps she'll think twice before sending me straight to hell. _You're never where I look for you, then you appear all unexpected. Like a rainbow_."

Armin frowned. "Huh?"

Eren gave a solemn nod. "I read it in a book."

"You can read?"

"Shut up."

"Look, if Mikasa comes here..."

"You'll let me know," Eren hurried to answer.

"Yes, I'll let you know. But, do you think it's going to work?"

Eren nodded, absolutely sure of himself. "Of course it will."

"But she — "

"No, listen to me," Eren interrupted, sitting up straight in the chair and staring at Armin with all the intensity in the world, the passionate Eren emerging again. "I already have it. You meet a shy, cute girl, right? If you tell her that she's beautiful, she'll think you're nice, but she won't believe you. She knows that beauty is the work for your contemplation, and sometimes that's enough."

He paused, eyes sparkling with unnamed passion. "But there's a better way. You show her she's beautiful. You turn your eyes into mirrors, your hands into prayers when you touch her. And it is hard, very hard, but when she truly believes you," Eren gestured excitedly. "Suddenly the story she tells herself in her own head changes. She transforms. She isn't seen as beautiful. She _is_ beautiful, and she's seen. I'm sure Mikasa hasn't felt that way in a long time, but I'll change that. I will, Armin. I swear it, and this scarf..." he took it, the red matching the deepness of his scars. "You see this? I gave it to her when we were children, never took it off. She still has it, Armin, looks like new. Ten years later, ten fucking years later is enough time to get rid of a scarf, but it's still here. It means that she cares, Armin, that she hasn't forgotten me yet. I'm sorry, buddy, but I'm not going to let an opportunity like this slip away. It's not about making her love me, it's about getting her back. I just want to bring her back home, like I promised her."

Armin listened with teary eyes, silence reigning after his speech was over. "This is the first time I hear you talk like this."

Eren's eyes lost all magic, all passion, all brightness. He held onto the scarf the same way he held onto her hand the night they were separated. Armin rubbed his nose and Eren looked at him, suddenly realizing the meaning of his words. His friend looked so soft, so pure like sunlight before his eyes. "Don't cry, Ar."

The boy sniffed, smiling. "I'm sorry. It's just... after everything you guys went through, the way you're so willing to change things... I'm sure she'll appreciate it. Her life is truly a huge mess, believe me, I know. I met her shortly after she joined the okiya, I helped her when she tried to escape, but she was caught. I... I promised that one day I would help her, and I tried, believe me, but — "

Armin stopped the moment he felt Eren's hand coming to rest at his shoulder. Not that Armin was overly sentimental, but he swore he saw Eren's eyes become puffy and moist, even if his expression only carried kindness. "Thanks, Armin. Thank you for taking care of her. I will always be in your debt, for this and for so much more."

"Well, that's what friends are for," Armin giggled, patting his arm in return.

"Best friends," Eren reprimanded.

Armin laughed again. "Yes, best friends."

Eren ruffled his blond hair with passionate fingers, getting up from the chair to put on his jacket. Armin looked up at him. "You're leaving?"

His friend nodded cheerfully. "Your eye-bags tell me that you'll pass out at any moment and I don't want you to die, I still need you alive."

Without saying a single word, Eren marched towards the door, hearing Armin's high-pitched voice screaming from the distance. "H-Hey! Where are you going?!"

Eren lifted up his hand in the air, showing him his big thumb. "I have a list to make!"

* * *

_"Eren Jaeger's extraordinary list to bring Mikasa back home._

_Step number one: Casual meeting."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, armin's favorite word is bazinga. FIGHT ME.  
> this update came a little late than expected, hopefully next one will be sooner but life happens and wellp, sometimes one can't find the time, lmao. This chapter doesn't have as much eremika as the previous ones, but it explores their individual dynamics with other characters and how those will play a part in their relationship blooming into something else. 
> 
> like i said, i decided to change gabi/frieda's characters for kiyomi/hitch bc reasons, as i'm editing an already published ver of this fic, i find myself having to change many things now that i'm reading the manga and just having grown as a writer, i don't think i'll be making more changes but just a heads up! again, thank you everyone for the kudos&the comments, i can't believe we reached 200 kudos like what the hell??? you guys are awesome. 
> 
> also! i have a **[CURIOUSCAT](https://curiouscat.qa/misswongs)** in case anyone wants to ask things about the fic, eremika or whatever, drop your questions there, fellas. 
> 
> anyway, that's all, see you soon!


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